Memoria Luxareo
by Tootytots1
Summary: Memoria Luxareo - Carved images of memories, that can only be revealed by extreme emotions, such as; love, hate, sadness, or joy. The images were used in the early 1400's to keep things that should remain secret, hidden. Arden Masarvas created the first Memoria Luxareo that could only be opened with two people present, sharing similar emotions. DM/HG Very Slow Burn!
1. Lost Necklaces & Hidden Rooms

This is probably not the right place to leave this message but I don't really know where else to. I am still very much writing this, but have been working on editing quite a bit of late, had a look back through what I'd written and got the bug :). I will be continuing with the story but it may be a little slower going forward because I'm improving as I go. Thanks so much for being patient and for reading, it means a lot and hopefully there will be an update soon.

* * *

"You're an insufferable git, you know that?" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms, pointedly tapping the toe of her shoe against the floor, the click of it echoed around the empty hall. The insufferable git in question was letting a silver chain dangle in front of her just out of reach. The owl pendant twirled with the momentum, its golden gem eyes glinting faintly in the torchlight.

It was late and the castle was cold, leading most of its occupants to retreat to the warmth of their common rooms, which was exactly where Hermione imagined herself being at that every moment; curled up in front of the fire, smiling as Harry and Ron completed another round of wizarding chess instead of their homework. She sighed heavily when the prat of a Slytherin's voice broke through her daydreams snootily.

"Not my fault you're short, Granger." Draco shrugged and Hermione blew a strand of frizzy hair out her face angrily, watching the Slytherin inspect her necklace closely, his nose scrunched with disgust.

"What is this made of anyway, tin?"

Hermione swiped for it growling in frustration as it was lifted just out of reach by the taller Slytherin. "No, it's silver, now give it back." Draco laughed evilly dangling it in front of her and pulling it out of reach again.

Hermione fumed, she shouldn't have even been there. It was all Snape's fault; the potions professor had been idiot enough to partner them in brewing a batch of Wit-Sharpening Potion. The potion was easy enough, but why he thought that either of them could work well together was beyond her. She cursed him silently to a long and drawn out death, as she remembered the smug smirk that graced his pale, pointed features when he'd given them both detention, the remnants of their potion congealing nicely on their clothes. Hermione didn't need this; the year had been stressful enough already without adding a spoilt pureblood prat to the mix.

"Malfoy give it…" she stopped, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as the Slytherin threw her necklace down a dark stairwell with a lift of one blonde eyebrow. It disappeared into the darkness and landed with the faintest sound.

A huge, great part of her wanted nothing more than to slap the smug look off his pale aristocratic features, shouting every expletive known to muggle and wizarding kind till she was red in the face and the Blonde was suitably spooked. Instead, she bit her tongue and opted for stomping towards the stairwell muttering under her breath, her fingers grasping at the stone for guidance.

"I don't know why you're bothered with something so cheap," Draco muttered, leaning lazily against the wall hands digging into his pockets. Hermione ignored him and knelt, searching the steps with her palms.

"It was a present." Draco scoffed again as her voice came biting out of the darkness and took a chunk out of his eardrum.

"Shit present."

"Of course, you would think that, because you're a spoilt... WAAAHH." Hermione let out a shriek as the stairs gave way beneath her, sending her hurtling into darkness. A stone floor broke her fall and Hermione winced, sitting up gingerly as her whole body screamed in protest. All around her was inky blackness so dark that her vision refused to clear even after she blinked several times. She squinted into the black cursing when she realised she couldn't see anything at all.

"Malfoy?" she called, choking on air thick with dust.

"Granger?" She heard his voice somewhere above her, tipping her head back to investigate and breathing out a sigh of relief when she could just about make out the outline of the hole she'd fallen into, thanking every god and wizard that it hadn't closed behind her.

"Help - help me up." she coughed again, pushing herself slowly off the floor, and dusting off her school uniform.

"And how, pray tell, do you suggest I do that, Granger? Don't know whether the fall has affected your memory, but we are both wandless...and its dark." Draco examined his nails, wincing as the bushy-haired witch screamed back at him shrilly.

"And whose fault is that? If you'd have stopped being a prat for just one second, then maybe, just maybe, the potion wouldn't have exploded, and then maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't have had to spend detention cleaning the corridor walls. And if you weren't such a self-righteous prat I wouldn't be down this hole!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't turn this on me, you're the little miss know-it-all that feels the need to micro-manage everything, I think I know how to chop things, Granger."

"I'm surprised anything survives the vacuous space between your ears."

"Weeeellll... I guess you're right. Have fun sitting in the dark, mudblood." he flung the 'mudblood' cheerly over his shoulder as he slowly walked away.

"WAIT, wait, wait. Okay, fine." Hermione sighed trying to calm herself. Swallowing her pride with great difficulty, she called up.

"Would you please just get me out of here?" Hermione ground her teeth together as she heard him laugh in reply.

Draco sauntered back to the stairwell, thinking it was rather a funny turn of events that the Gryffindor needed his help. He chuckled merrily at the thought.

Draco stood on the threshold peering down into the darkness cautiously. He shivered as a chill crept down his spine. It was black, impossibly black, full of shadows that felt as though they moved as a great mass, choking out any light. He glanced back out at the corridor; torches burned at regular intervals their light was bright and warm, casting great halos across the walls and floor, but none of it fell into the stairwell.

Taking a breath, he spread his arms out feeling along the wall either side of him as he gingerly put one foot in front of the other. The blackness seemed to envelope him, drawing him further down. He had to fight the niggling urge to leave the Gryffindor where she was, if the bushy-haired know-it-all was down a hole, she couldn't annoy him. Hermione began coughing and spluttering and Draco rolled his eyes. There was no way he'd get away with leaving her, as lenient as Snape usually was with him and his fellow Slytherins he knew this was something he most likely wouldn't get away with. Still, the thought was tempting.

Hermione was wandering blindly around the small room feeling along the walls for an exit. Her fingers fell into crevices, some deep other shallow and as she followed them along the wall, she realised they formed some sort of pattern. Without light, she could not make them out but hope swelled a little within her at the possibility of the patterns hinting towards another way out should the Slytherin decide to continue being his usual prattish self.

"Merlin, Granger, I can't see anything down here." She heard the blonde mumble and sighed, counting to ten in her head.

"My, my, I've finally found something you're good at, stating the obvious."

Draco paused with a scowl, 'Do you want out of the dark and dingy hole, Granger? Because I will leave you, and trust me when I say, I will sleep like the dead.'

Hermione huffed, biting back the retort of him already looking like the dead and leaning back against the wall. She could feel the patterns dig into her skin through her shirt, the cold press of them making her shiver.

Draco squinted into the darkness, shuffling down another step, 'Where the…' The words died in his throat as his foot slid into a gap, and the rest of him followed. He groaned at the pain lancing up his leg as he landed funny, crumpling into a sorry heap in the darkness.

"Malfoy?"

"Now who's stating the obvious, Granger?" He grumbled, pushing himself up, gingerly putting his foot to the floor, testing his weight on the injured limb.

"This is just perfect. I'm stuck down a hole, with you." Hermione bit out, crossing her arms with frustration.

"I'm not exactly thrilled about this either. This is what I get for helping a Mudblood." Draco rubbed his leg gingerly, it felt bruised.

"Don't call me that!"

"Or what, Granger, you going to chuck me down a dark hole, oh wait you already did tha…" They both paused as they heard a grating sound above their heads.

"Is that the…" Hermione started, but couldn't finish, panic making her words bubble into nothing. She didn't want to think about the fact that she might be trapped and with Malfoy of all people.

"Oh no, no, no. HELP! HELP! I'M TRAPPED WITH A MUDBLOOD!" His shouts echoed around them and faded into silence.

"Great, that's just peachy. Thanks a bunch, Granger. Tell me, does that bushy hair of yours drown out common sense, you know like, don't go traipsing down dark stairwells without a light?"

"This mess is entirely your fault, you have to be so-so...immature." Snapping at Malfoy seemed to be the only viable way of not panicking. She couldn't be trapped, she had stuff to do, a life to live, books to read.

"You are not blaming this on me," Hermione warned, biting back a retort and taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Okay, okay. Let's think about this. It's Hogwarts, so there's got to be some sort of latch, or handle, or something..." she knew she was clutching at straws, she'd searched the room and found nothing but the possibility of patterns on the wall, but, if being friends with Harry had taught her anything it was that there was always hope.

"Sooooo you suggest feeling around in the dark, great plan, 10 points to Gryffindor." Draco slow clapped as Hermione turned and once again started running her palms along the wall.

'Will you just try?' She bit out.

With a heavy drawn out sigh, Draco began feeling around in the darkness until his hand met the cold wall. "What the hell are these?" he mumbled, running his finger along an indent. "Feels like runes or something..."

"Runes, I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps…maybe we could read them and they…they could show us the way out."

"Well good luck with that one, Granger." Draco scoffed, "the golden trio worked out how to see in the dark?' Hermione ignored him and carried on searching, but with each bit of wall covered, the knot of worry in her stomach grew. Suddenly her hand brushed Draco's in the darkness, and both jumped back quickly.

"Get off me mudblood," He spat, wiping his hand down the front of his jumper.

"I told you not to call me that!" Hermione stomped her foot against the floor.

"Wow stomping feet, Granger, real mature. You're hardly in a position to be giving orders anyway, you got us trapped down here."

'"You stole my necklace." Hermione spat through gritted teeth.

'Correction, Granger, you dropped it, I simply picked it up.' Draco gave an exasperated sigh, pushing against the wall nearest him with all his strength till the ridges dug into his palms.

"You wouldn't give it back."

" _You wouldn't give it back_ ," Draco mimicked, 'I don't know what you're getting all prissy for, it was a piece of trash."

"I told you, it was a present." Hermione had given up on searching for a way out, actively aiming all her frustration and fear at Draco in the darkness.

"Shit present."

"No, it wasn't." Draco paused in his pushing, grinning into the black in the general direction her voice had come from.

"Oh don't, that's too precious. One of your boyfriends buy it for you?" Hermione blushed, grateful for the darkness. If Malfoy knew she'd never hear the end of it.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Oh Merlin, they did, didn't they? So, who was it. Potty or little Ronniekins?" He tapped his chin in mock thought as he leant against the wall he'd been pushing. "Given the cheapness of it, I'm going to go with, Weasel."

"Shut up."

"I'm right aren't I?"

"You're such a twat." Hermione crossed her arms, wishing for about the fiftieth time that night that she was somewhere else, with anyone else. She'd have preferred Voldemort to sharing the enclosed space with Malfoy any longer.

"And you're a mudblood."

"I've told you...arghhh, you're such a dick." Draco laughed bitterly at her pathetic insults.

"Well you're getting on my tits, Granger, so I guess that makes us even." He pushed himself off the wall in annoyance, even in the darkness she still managed to have an air of know-it-allness about her and it was stifling.

"EVEN? EVEN? You deliberately sabotage the potion and get us stuck down here and you think we're even?" Hermione gestured wildly around her, even though he couldn't see "The ingredients said cut ginger roots, so guess what, _you_ were supposed to _cut_ them." Hermione hit the back of her hand against her palm reiterating her point.

'And we're back to the bloody potion, I was cutting the infernal ginger roots!'

'You were dicing.'

'Same difference, bucktooth.'

'Well, it obviously wasn't because the potion exploded.'

'It probably exploded because it couldn't take listening to one more minute of you shrieking.'

'I do not shriek!' Hermione shrieked, making Draco wince.

'Of course, you don't Granger. And your hair's not bushy and you don't have the hots a ginger weasel." Draco drawled sarcastically.

'Why you…' Hermione went to lunge in his general direction, but the light stopped her. It was small and bright, floating between them. It pulsed in the air and lazily moving this way and that.

'What is that?' Draco whispered, noticing how close their faces had got in their argument and pulling back sharply, his face contorting in a mix of fear and curiosity.

'I don't know?" Hermione breathed, leaning forward, feeling her face warm in the glow.

"Wow, Miss Know-It-All doesn't know, this should go down in his...Hey don't touch it, are you mad?" He went to reach for her hand then thought better of it; partly out of distaste for her mudblood germs, and partly because he didn't want to get any closer to the strange light.

The bushy-haired Gryffindor had no such qualms and reached forward, the end of her finger tingling as it made contact. The light flew away at an alarming speed, nestling itself into one of the crevices Hermione had felt along the wall. It spread, light pooling into every available gap slowly at first before gathering in momentum. As it moved it changed into a dizzying array of colours that filled the room with a tremendous light that warmed Hermione's skin.

"Wow." Hermione realised that she was no longer afraid, the strange light banishing it all in an instant making her feel strangely calm. With her Gryffindor courage once again restored, she snuck closer to inspect the wall, her finger prickling as it made contact.

"They're pictures," Draco muttered, spinning slowly to take in the scene in its entirety, his hands burrowed deep in his pockets feigning a calm he hadn't felt since he'd fallen down the stupid hole.

Hermione stopped staring at the end of her finger in curiosity and glanced up. He was right, before her lay the intricate carving of a ball; it glittered in spectacular detail, the ever-changing glow of the light making it seem as if the people were dancing. She turned and gasped, the rest of the walls were filled with them too; battles both magical and muggle, night and day, places she'd never seen before but looked beautiful and real enough to fall into.

"Arden." Hermione turned to Draco, who was tracing his fingers warily over a large and foreboding castle, it was the darkest of all the pictures, the sky above it full of grey clouds.

"The haven of the witch and wizard. You know it?" Hermione whispered, coming to stand by his side.

"Duh, Granger, everyone knows it. Plus, I live near it." she rolled her eyes, ignoring his tone, not even he could ruin how magical the moment was.

Hermione turned away and her breath caught, steps faltering as she saw the image on the farthest wall; it was the brightest, filled with a kaleidoscope of colours that swirled into each other and created shades and textures she had no name for. It was a man and a woman, their foreheads pressed together, hands clasped as they cried, their tears dripping into an alabaster bowl beneath them its contents swirling in a silver mist. Hermione ran her fingers along the breastplate of the man's armour, golden vines decorated the edge which unfurled into leaves towards the centre. The woman wore a white dress, corseted with long sleeves that almost dangled into the bowl beneath them. Hermione noticed the bowl was encrusted with precious stones, runes carved in between them that glowed a deep red. The silver mist inside it swirled and she found herself drawn to it.

The shaking started as soon as her fingers made contact. The walls creaked and groaned around them as if they were about to give way.

"Granger, what in Merlin's name did you do?" Draco shouted over the din, his whole body shaking in panic as he made his way over to the Gryffindor hands gripping the moving walls for purchase. Hermione stared at her fingers wide-eyed, inspecting them for any marks as the tips of them burnt.

"I didn't do anything...I" she pointed at the wall in front of her just as it split down the middle separating the couple and breaking the bowl. The silver light within in it leaked away, flooding through the newly made gap and the shaking abruptly stopped.

"Whaaa…?" Draco eyed the walls suspiciously, certain they were going to crush him at any moment and then he'd have to die by the side of a mudblood, not something he'd ever planned on.

"It's a door," Hermione stated matter of factly, as she quickly moved to push the stone doors open. Draco let out a snort as he watched her feet slip hopelessly on the floor beneath her.

"Malfoy, would you please help me?" Hermione paused in her pushing to cast him an incredulous glance. Draco scanned the rest of the lit pictures lazily.

"And why would I do that, mudblood?" He added the 'mudblood' like an afterthought, grinning slightly as he watched her face screw up in annoyance.

"Because, Malfoy," she spat through gritted teeth, "since the stairs went back to their original job of, you know, being stairs, we are trapped down here. And this is a door, doors usually lead places,' she paused and looked at him, "you see where I'm going with this?' she finished with a patronising smirk.

"Oh, shut up, mudblood, no one likes a smartass." Despite his words, he moved forward, putting a great deal of distance between him and the know-it-all witch, before helping push the stone door aside. He hated her more when she was right, which, infuriatingly, was all the time.

The stone moved slowly, scraping along the floor loudly as it left an arch in the thick blanket of dust that had settled there. Draco pushed it one last time before stepping back and admiring their work. They had managed to open it up enough for them to fit through one at a time.

Hermione moved forward but paused when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around curiously at the Slytherin who was worriedly eyeing the gap, trying his best to glimpse the unknown on the other side of the door.

"I swear that hair or yours dulls your senses. You can't just go waltzing through a gap in the wall. You don't know where it goes." Hermione rolled her eyes at his cowardice, she forgot she wasn't with Harry or Ron.

"And what do you suggest, sitting in the middle of the room and willing the stairs to disappear again?" She shrugged off his hand, watching the realisation dawn on his face as he pulled his arm back not so subtly wiping the 'germs' off on the nearest wall.

Hermione slowly shuffled through the gap, her mouth falling open as she stepped out into a large expansive room, emerald green pillars sparkling in the light of candles that floated just above her, suspended by magic as they were in the great hall. The roof was domed, a 4-pointed star sparkling in its centre, splitting off sections that depicted each season, the images moving as if windows to the weather outside. Snowflakes began to spill out of the winter scene, floating down around her. She grinned reaching out to catch them, and when they touched her skin, they were warm, disappearing in a glimmer of sparkling light.

The walls around her were painted with images that moved; people, animals, clouds and plants that moved and swayed, as if living their own smaller life. Hermione leaned closer to inspect them, smiling gently as she watched a little girl with a dog, run along crowded streets filled with people admiring the abundance of different objects being sold at little stalls. The scene looked so real, so alive, she was sure she could smell cooking bread, smoke from fires and the mud that squished beneath their feet.

"What the hell." Hermione jumped as she heard Draco's voice behind her. He'd finally worked up the courage to push himself through the gap and was stunned by the sight that met him. Snow fell from the roof and was collecting on the floor and the bushy-haired Gryffindor was leant over slightly inspecting moving pictures that decorated the walls, snowflakes collecting in the frizz on top of her head and not melting.

"It's amazing," she breathed turning to him, her eyes glinting with wonder which was something that Draco had never really had the pleasure of seeing, not that he would ever admit that he cared.

"We live in an enchanted castle where we perform magic, I think amazing kind of goes without saying," he answered drily. Hermione scoffed turning away from him. Draco shrugged and went over to inspect the opposite wall, stepping closer when he noticed a tiny battle was raging. Blood poured into the earth, as men screamed and slaughtered one another. He saw one young man curled up in the mayhem, trying to shove his innards back inside of him, tears making tracks down his filthy cheeks. Draco pulled away in disgust, his stomach turning.

"Granger, I think we should get out of here." Hermione ignored him, tracing a rune that was carved into one of the emerald green pillars.

"This is seven, well I mean, the actual meaning has never been uncovered, but it usually means seven. Why is it here?" Hermione muttered, as she inspected the other pillars and found that there were no more runes.

"I don't know, Granger let's just go." He mumbled, working his way to the far end of the room, hoping that the large archway housed a door that he could escape through and be free from the nightmare that was being in the mudbloods company.

He paused as he heard the grating of stone against stone. Turning, he watched as a good portion of the floor opened and a huge white bowl floated out of it, runes carved into its base and precious stones encrusted around the rim.

"It's the one from the picture," Hermione whispered, letting her hand fall away from the green pillar where the rune was glowing red. The floor slid back into place leaving the bowl floating a few inches above it.

Hermione looked so tiny next to it, the expanse of it covering most of the floor, snowflakes disappeared in glittering bursts as they fell into it.

Draco turned away, shaking his head, this all felt too much like something the golden trio would get up to and that usually led to danger, which he wanted absolutely no part in. He felt a glimmer of hope and began to increase his pace when, to his relief, the outline of a door began to appear the closer he got. However, he faltered when the Gryffindor muttered something behind him.

"What?!" he spat, swivelling around violently to look at her. To his horror, she was inspecting the contents of the strange floating bowl, her face glowing silver.

"It's a Pensieve," she said again, not bothering to look up at him, "It holds memories, so you can view them,"

"I know what a Pensieve is." he grumbled, "Look let's just go. I don't think we're even supposed to be here." Hermione looked up at him scornfully.

"Since when do you care about abiding by the rules, Malfoy?"

"Since common sense tells me that this place could be dangerous," he muttered glancing around fearfully.

"What, scared?"

"No, just...just come on, mudblood." He focused intently on the door, hoping to hear the steps of the Gryffindor behind him. He looked over his shoulder when he was met with silence, his mouth falling open as he watched the bushy-haired witch reach forwards, snowflakes from her hair drifting into the basin below.

"No, don't…" he started running back toward her.

Hermione barely even registered him shouting, the contents of the bowl was so hypnotising; it moved like mist and smoke, noises and sounds swirling within its depths so faint she could hardly make them out. She leant forward, slowly lowering her hand into the bowl, the sensations that travelled up her arm made her gasp. It was like feeling every emotion at once, tears threatening to spill from her eyes at the same time as she tried to stifle laughter.

The feeling suddenly stopped as she was yanked back, wincing at the vice-like grip around the top of her arm.

"Are you deaf, or just too bloody stupid. You don't know what that thing is," The Slytherin was spitting in her face, his nose almost touching hers as he snarled. She tried to shrug him off, pushing against his chest.

"Get off me."

"No, because when left to your own devices, you wander. I swear I don't know how you aren't dead yet."

"Wouldn't you just love that," Hermione spat, yanking her arm away from him, with all her strength.

Draco suddenly relinquished his grip, sending Hermione falling back. For a while, her arms flailed in the air desperate for something to grip onto. Finally, she managed to grab a large handful of Draco's jumper pulling him with her. Draco's arms pinwheeled as he struggled to find purchase, his face contorting in fear at the prospect of falling into the large unknown bowl. The silvery mist rose gently, tendrils wrapping around Hermione's shoulders and pulling with extraordinary strength. Hermione was powerless to do anything but fall backwards, yanking Draco along with her.


	2. Fire

The mist swirled around her as she fell, a plethora of colours shimmering in its silver depths. It moved like water, lapping at her skin the feel of it soft as velvet. She struggled for breath as emotions ripped through her making her heart hurt and her stomach clench. She could feel the kiss of tears on her cheeks and the bubble of laughter in her throat that disappeared into the swirling liquid as if she had made no sound.

Echoes of thousands of voices called out to her, so many different people; whispering, shouting, screaming and crying. She tipped her head slightly, trying to work out what the voices were saying but, as soon as she did, they faded into the din their words indiscernible. Unfamiliar faces jumped out at her making her pull away violently, squeezing her eyes shut in a desperate bid to ward them off. She concentrated on the feel of Malfoy's sweater gripped in her hand. She hadn't been able to see him as they'd fallen, but she could still feel the soft wool pressed against her palm and took some sort of weird comfort in it.

Suddenly, she wasn't falling, the world was dark and she could no longer feel anything gripped in her hand. Strange colourful shapes danced in the darkness just out of focus and no amount of blinking made them clearer. Hermione tried to walk towards them and realised she couldn't move, couldn't even feel her own legs, her feet against the floor. It was as if she were suspended mid-air, held by some unseen force and when she screamed no sound left her mouth, only silence and the strange burred shapes. Panic bloomed in her chest, _**HELP, HELP ME**_ _._ She screamed it with everything she had, but the darkness remained quiet.

Hermione groaned as a pain grew in her head, throbbing with the beat of her heart and a voice whispered things at her, a voice she didn't know.

' _Edward, Arden. What happened?"_ Hermione shivered as wind bit at her cheeks with a ferocity that made them sting. A gap opened, and light flooded into Hermione's eyes and her head screamed in protest, the gap immediately closed again. She felt a dizzy sort of sickness bubbling in her stomach.

' _Breathe, Mina. Breathe.'_ The voice was soft as it echoed around her.

 _ **Who are you? Help me. There's been some mistake.**_ The voice didn't respond to her questions, instead light flooded her eyes again. The world before her blurred for a moment, shifting sickeningly on its axis before sharpening painfully into focus. The sea of faces contorted in hate and malice all looking at her made her want to shrink back into the darkness. Their black robes sheltered them from the snow falling lazily from thick grey clouds that choked the sky above their heads. It was dark, and only the flickering light of two torches, held by two stern-looking men garbed in purple robes, lit those gathered. Snowflakes sizzled in the quiet, as the flames snapped them greedily out of the air. She could make out the looming shadows of great hills that rose up either side of her, and at the farthest end of the valley, the clouds glowed orange as if some great fire roared in the distance.

 _ **Help me there's been some mistake.**_ Hermione tried to plead with the people before her, but her words fell into nothingness and the crowd remained unmoved and unphased.

' _Edward, no, no, no.'_ The voice echoed through her head as Hermione's gaze travelled down without her permission. She was tied to something hard and uncomfortable, rope wrapped around her middle, thick and tightly bound so that even small movements were almost impossible. She began to shake at the sight of piles of wood gathered around her feet, twigs biting into her thighs painfully. She didn't recognise the white dress she was wearing, didn't recognise the faces and most of all, when the wind blew, the hair that fell in front of her was straight and blonde, so golden amidst the grey. Hermione whimpered silently, realising that whatever magic they had found had taken her out of her own body and placed her within someone else, somewhere else.

 _ **This isn't right, this isn't supposed to happen.**_ She tried to breathe, searching through her back-catalogue of facts to find something, anything to explain her predicament, growing more frustrated with herself when her thoughts muddled incomprehensively. She thought of Harry and Ron, of Hogwarts and Crookshanks, of the Gryffindor common room, anything to bring her back to reality, anything to anchor her to home. But nothing worked and the more she tried to focus on them the quicker they seemed to disappear, fading into thoughts of Edward and of panic and into the fear that she knew wasn't her own but felt anyway.

"Mina, Mina, Mina." The voice was deep and resonant and Hermione felt disgust overwhelm her. Whoever the man was Mina didn't like him.

"Look at me, Mina." Slowly Hermione's gaze lifted. He was handsome, long brown hair falling down his shoulders, a goatee around his smirking mouth. He was donned in black robes, the ancient rune for seven emblazoned in red thread on his chest. The torchlight danced in his eyes in a wicked way and the gaze that met hers was not a kind one. Hermione felt the shiver of fear that shook Mina.

"Arden." It was spat from Mina's mouth like a filthy word as glimpses of a younger Arden flashed through her mind, the weight of betrayal that hung off them made Hermione's heart hurt.

The man sneered, and Mina shook her head, sending another wave of dizziness rattling right into Hermione's stomach.

"Arden, please. It doesn't...It doesn't have to be like this."

"You made your choice." Mina's head lowered in shame and once again Hermione was staring at her bare feet, just visible through the gaps in the wood. They were muddy, caked in filth, and frozen right to the bone. The white dress was sticking to her skin as melted snowflakes wet it through. She shivered again.

"Good witches and Wizards, my fellow suffers in this long and brutal war." Arden's voice echoed across the valley and the crowd hushed to listen. "Magic is our blood, is our life and right.' The crowd cheered, Mina looked up to watch as bright globes of light shot out the end of wands and flew into the grey clouds. Arden raised his hand, and silence fell.

"But there are those, those that would take it from us, condemn us to death. Those without such gifts, without such right." shouts of indignation rose, clamouring over one another to be heard.

"They crawl in filth and deal in blood, lies and death. They will take our world from us if we don't stop them."

"KILL THEM ALL." A voice shouted and the once again the crowd cheered.

Arden raised his hand again, his black sleeves moving in the wind. "All in good time, my friends, all in good time. First, we must weed out the weak links among us, those that are sympathetic to the filthy muggles cause. Those that would see us fall, see us crawling in the dirt, those that would see us dead." The crowd roared in anger and Mina whimpered. Images flashed around Hermione, memories that she guessed were of all the people before her. They spoke of happier, simpler times.

"Sympathetic to those who do not believe magic is our gift, our right. This," He turned to Mina, pointing an accusatory finger that may as well have branded her a traitor. Shame flooded through Hermione deeper than she'd ever thought possible like it was rooted inside of her and grew great branches that stretched throughout her limbs.

"This, harlot has given herself to one of them. Dirtied herself with their filth." Arden turned to her again and Hermione saw hurt flash across his cold features.

"Arden, please," Mina begged, her voice hoarse.

"This whore has betrayed us, she is a traitor to her own kind, a traitor to magic. She has their filth running through her veins. Her fate is for you to judge. Witches, Wizards, I ask you," he paused solemnly, "I ask you to decide. What should be we do with this, with this Mudblood."

Hermione felt the pain of the statement, recoiling in anguish. The word seemed to hold so much more venom, all the times that Draco had called it her paling in comparison.

The crowd was shouting, flinging insults at her.

"KILL HER."

"BURN HER."

Mina glanced around desperately, her heart aching.

 _Edward._ Images of a man with short black hair flitted through Hermione's head, there were so many of them and each of them filled her with such indescribable happiness at the same time as filling her with such indescribable pain.

Arden lifted both his arms, "My good people, I will not only give you her life but the life of the muggle who lay with her. And then we will bring a war to the rest of the traitors, a war that they have never seen before. And we shall be triumphant." Arden paused a moment, his arms wide and wide smile on his face as his followers shouted and cheered his name. He raised his hand finally to quit them, " Bring forth the muggle."

Hermione could feel Mina's heart hammering in her chest, panic sticking in her throat making it hard to breathe. The crowd parted, and two robed figures pulled a man along by chains. Hermione heard Mina scream as the thin man was chucked into the dirt before her. Blood dripped down from a gash in his forehead, filth clung to his pale skin and, when he looked up, ghosts shifted in his eyes as if he'd spent a lifetime haunted.

Hermione's vision blurred, and she felt the wetness of tears on her cheeks.

"Edward, no, no, no." Hermione didn't know it was possible to feel so tortured, so torn and pained, she felt as if her insides were being ripped out and pushed back inside of her all at once. The man's face crumbled as he took in the scene before him.

"I'm sorry, Mina, I'm so sorry." One of the robed figures holding his chains pointed his wand down at him, muttering something under his breath. Edward feel to the floor, back arching in pain as a scream ripped through the air.

Mina sobbed.

Arden wandered closer, his eyes shining in triumph. "I told you, I'd never let you go, Mina. You can't save them, and you won't save him." Arden pointed towards Edward, who was clawing at the earth, trying to get to Mina.

"Arden, it doesn't have to be like this, what about peace? What about all the things we talked about when we were little." Mina struggled to get the words out between sobs and shook when Arden's face hardened at her words, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Leaning forward he spat in her face.

"There can never be peace as long as men like him still breathe, with whores like you at his beck and call. They kill us and kill us." He looked down at his feet then back up at Mina, the tears and hurt were gone and all that was left was malice, malice that made him barely recognisable.

"The only way to stop it is to break the cycle," he said louder, addressing the crowd. "And it starts with these two." Arden reached out a hand.

"Torch." A robed man, his hood covering most of his face, stepped forward holding a torch, flames licking at the air.

Edward was pulling on his chains viciously and Mina turned to look at him.

"It's okay." She whispered, turning back to Arden. For a moment it seemed as if he'd changed his mind, that he'd reach forward and untie her, that he'd smile at her like he used to. Hermione felt all the hope, saw all the memories and watched them all fade away as Arden lowered the torch to the wood at her feet.

"MINA!" Edward was screaming, "MINA, NO, PLEASE, JUST KILL ME, KILL ME." He begged, turning to his captures, sobs wracking through his body. "MINA. MINA I'M SORRY, I'm so sorry."

"Shut him up."

Someone muttered a spell and Edward fell to the ground again.

"Edward," Mina mumbled it pathetically, tears falling from her eyes, shoulders shaking as the wood crackled around her spitting sparks into the air. Hermione panicked as she felt the heat of it biting into her legs, this wasn't supposed to happen, she wasn't supposed to feel physical pain. Once again, she tried to think of Hogwarts, of home, of her parents, even of arguing with Malfoy, but as the fire grew, she found it impossible to think about anything but how much it hurt. About how much she just wanted to live and be okay.

The crowd was cheering and chanting, and Edward was screaming, Hermione could see him through the haze on his knees, shoulders slumped in defeat. The pain unbelievably increased.

 _ **Help me please, I don't want to die, I don't want to die**_. Hermione shouted it as loud as she could, trying to grit her teeth against the hurt. Instead, Mina just cried out in pain.

There was a burst of green light and Mina shouted Edwards name. The heartbreak was almost as intense as the heat. Smoke got into Hermione's eyes and in her lungs, and then she couldn't breathe.

 _ **Help me, HELP ME. I'm dying, please.**_ She screamed at the top of her lungs, eyes snapping open as she realised her voice was echoing back at her. She was in the room with the green pillars, warm snowflakes were hitting her cheeks. She sucked in air greedily, arms and legs shaking at the memory of being so close to death.

Draco was on the floor in front of her cheek pressed against the stone floor, his face pale and grey eyes wide open in fear.

"Malfoy?" She whispered, glancing around, noticing that the white bowl had disappeared. She tried to get her shaking limbs to move. Draco pushed himself up with difficulty, backpedalling away from her.

"Stay-st-stay away from me." Draco was up on his feet running towards the door, stumbling every now and again as his legs gave way beneath him.

"Wait...what did you see?" But Draco ignored her, disappearing out of the room. Slowly the images melted out of existence, and each candle floating about her was slowly extinguished. Hermione pushed herself forward, hurtling out the door just as the last bit of light was blown out.

Stumbling to a stop, she realised she was back in the hall just outside the stairwell, she glanced around and noticed that Malfoy was nowhere in sight; buckets and rags were still sitting where they had been left from when they'd cleaned the walls.

It felt like an age ago. She leant against the wall, trying to calm her racing heart, hands shaking at her sides. Whatever she'd experienced had been real, and she'd felt everything, known everything as if she had been Mina.

She knew Pensieve's didn't work like that, weren't supposed to feel like that. Whatever had been in the room had been unknown and she needed to know. Slowly she scooped up the rags and buckets, heading back to Snape, giving the stairwell one last glance.

She would begin with the only place she knew well enough, the library.


	3. The Library

The library was quiet, small lamps at each table glowing gently forming little halo's around studying students' heads. Hermione stared out at the window stretching languidly, wincing at the pain in her shoulders. The light was fading but she could still make out the thick snowflakes, falling heavily and coating the grounds in white. She had been searching for hours and the snow had not let up in all that time. It was one of the things she loved most of all about Hogwarts, the seasons so drastically different that winter always felt as it should, all crisp air and the world leaden with snow.

With a sigh she turned back to her table, staring at the piles of book and countless scrolls of notes she had managed to amass, all of them utterly useless. She had trawled through the library's index and found no reference to a Wizard named Arden; whoever he had been, he hadn't written any books. She'd had to broaden her search which had led to dead ends and countless information; myths, legends and theories that neither enlightened nor lead her to anything remotely helpful.

She had considered asking Malfoy to help in the search, but the Slytherin seemed to have disappeared and she was certain that the answer would be a huge resounding no. He had looked petrified. She could of course empathise, the who experience hadn't exactly been a walk in the park and, unlike her adventures with Harry and Ron, there had been no way out. There had always been a way out, always. No matter how dire their situations had become she had always been assured in the knowledge that there would be something; something she had read, or that Harry could do, or unbelievably, something that Ron had accidently stumbled across. In the darkness though, in the depths of that strange bowl, there had been nothing, only pain.

Hermione gently tapped her fingers against the wooden desk, making sure she still had control over them, a sigh of relief left her when the fingers moved as they were told. Harry and Ron had been worried when they'd seen her return and sat her shaking form down by the common room fire. Hermione had all but ripped herself away from them, drawing herself as far from the fire as possible. She could still feel the bite of it on her skin, the burn of it in her lungs and when she closed her eyes the glare of it was branded on her vision. Of course, Harry and Ron had inevitably arrived at the conclusion that Malfoy had orchestrated some terrible prank and Harry had jumped to restrain Ron who had been dead set on vengeance. The fact that her friend had jumped so quickly to her defence had made her a little happy, warmth glowing in her stomach at the fact that Ron cared for her so much.

She had decided, against her much better judgement, not to tell them anything, waving off her unusual behaviour with the rather poor explanation of feeling sick. It sat uncomfortably, lying to them, but something inside of her wanted this to be hers and only hers. Something precious, if only precious to Mina; a woman who she hardly knew but felt inextricably linked to in a way that she couldn't explain.

Hermione glanced down at the large leather-bound book in front of her, it was one of the last few that she had left to search and she wasn't holding out much hope. Magical Mumblings; words and their magical lineage. It was a long shot, an afterthought, but the way Arden had spat mudblood at Mina had felt; new, unheard of and the crowd had reacted to it like tasting something different, something unsure.

Sighing she opened the book to 'M' and quickly searched through, scanning the lists, Mudblood was there, the passage about it short compared to the rest, Hermione hunched over it and began to read.

' _Mudblood - The exact origins of this foul word cannot be traced; however, many have concluded that utterances of it began in the 15th century._

Hermione grinned in triumph, the 15th century, that narrowed down the search somewhat. Magic, like anything, was an extensive subject with more written about it than could ever realistically be read, searching through its history had been an impossible task, but this felt promising. Excitement flickered in her stomach as she carried on reading.

 _Tensions between magic users and muggles were high at the time, leading to war and prevalent slaughter on both sides._

 _The term, although largely classed as an insult or swear word, is still uttered to this day by the most extremist magic users to refer to witches and wizards of muggle descent (Muggle - born)._

 _This, however, was not its original meaning. Witches and wizards were classed as 'Mudbloods" if they were deemed to be interacting pleasantly with muggles. Mud came from the belief that muggles lived in squalor, and so were filthy. Blood referred to the belief at the time; that magic resided in blood. Contradicting views can be found in the ancient writings of Claudius Medinas - The Soul of Magic and the more recent; Ursal Blobmash's - The Mental Process' of Magic._

Hermione pondered the information for a moment, pulling out a book from the pile in front of her and gazing at the title. Creations through the ages: Magic or Muggle? Hermione flipped it open, flicking forward to the 15th century.

Most of the pictures in the book were completely foreign to her, magical objects and artefacts that she'd never come across before, but she faltered when she saw the image of a carving, light filling up the gaps and changing colour. Hermione's heart began to race in her chest and a small, satisfied smirk spread across her face. She was getting closer to an answer, she could feel it.

Hermione read the name aloud, 'Memoria Luxareo.'

 _Memoria Luxareo - From the Latin Memoriae for memory, Lux for light and Appareo to appear. They are carved images of memories that can only be revealed by extreme emotions, such as love, hate, sadness and joy, that manifest themselves as a bright light. Once the light is absorbed into the images, the Memoria Luxareo will reveal its secrets._

Hermione paused as someone shrieked just outside the window, she turned and watched a group of older students run across the grounds hurling snowballs at one another. The burst of white that erupted as one hit someone's shoulder sent her reeling back to the room with the emerald pillars, reminding her of the way the tiny snowflakes had burst into glistening light as she'd touched them. Slowly she turned back to the book in front of her.

 _The Memoria Luxareo was created to keep things that should remain hidden a secret. Not much is known of the origins of the Memoria Luxareo, however many of the carvings that survive to this day have been dated back to the 1400s._

 _The idea of the Memoria Luxareo was said to have come from the writings of the great Wizard and Emperor Qin Shi Huang, though the actual origins of the carvings remain a mystery._

 _In some circles, it is believed that the Memoria Luxareo found its resurgence during the 14th Century. It is rumoured that witches and wizards of the time believed that Qin had hidden a great weapon and the search began to find it. The weapon itself was never actually found, and wards have since been placed around the sight of Qin Shi Huang's Memoria Luxareo to distil any emotional connection any unsuspecting muggle may have with it. The Terracotta army now makes a worthy tourist attraction for both muggle and magic users alike._

 _Despite the failure to find the secret weapon of Qin Shi Huang, the practice of using the Memoria Luxareo to send secret messages and keep magical artefacts safe is thought to have become common practice. An excerpt taken from a diary written by Arden Masarvas provides possible evidence to support this._

Hermione nearly squealed when she saw his name written in the book, finally, she had a reference to someone from the memory she had experienced. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she lowered her head and carried on reading.

 _By the light, that's what they call it. By the light, all secrets are revealed. The Memoria works better than any of us ever expected or believed. By the light, my success is revealed._

 _Arden Masarvas created the first Memoria Luxareo, that could only be opened with two people present, sharing matching emotions. Some of the notes taken from Arden's collection suggest that the Memoria Luxareo dates even further back than Qin Shi Huang's era, evidence of the carvings being found all over the world. It is hard to say whether these findings were, in fact, accurate as the magic has faded and the secrets they hid have long since been lost._

Hermione's mouth dropped open as she gazed at the pictures flying across the page and landing gracefully next to the text. Carvings from Egypt, Rome, Greece, all over the world. Some of the pictures were of famous historical sights and artefacts that Hermione herself had visited. She smiled to herself, shaking her head slowly in disbelief; no matter how much she knew about magic it always surprised her. Determined to find out more, she concentrated on Arden's name, chewing her bottom lip in thought for a moment.

"If he created that, then that must mean…" She mumbled it to herself as she sorted through the piles of books, checking each title till her fingers wrapped around the one she was after.

"Famous names in magic." She opened the book flipping through the names until she found him. A shiver ran down her spine as she recognised the man who was gazing up at her. He was older, much older; his brown hair long and grey, the goatee had grown to a full beard that reached down and brushed his robe covered chest. The eyes though were the same and Hermione swore she could still see the hurt within them, the malice.

 _Arden Masarvas - Renowned Wizard from the end of the 14th century. He opened his home 'Masarvas Manor' (later renamed Arden in honour of his bravery) to all witches and wizards as a sanctuary during a time of great turmoil and uncertainty in the magical world. First to create the Memoria Luxareo that could only be opened by two people sharing the same emotion. His creation was used by Witches and Wizards of the time to pass messages and keep secrets, until the process eventually died out, due to simpler and less time-consuming ideas being brought forward._

 _In early life, he fought many battles and was active in the rescuing of many Magic users who had been captured by muggles. His views towards muggles were never healthy and did not change, however, around that time most views towards muggles were less than favourable._

 _In his old age, Arden became a Professor of Ancient Runes at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, which he referred to as 'a place of secrets.' He spent the rest of his days working there._

Hermione couldn't believe it; the passage was so short. Given that there was an extensive collection of books that detailed the appropriate colour and consistency of the most effective pond slime, she'd expected just a tad more information. She growled in frustration, resting her head in her hands. She realised, sighing heavily, that she would have to move on with her search, it being obvious that witches and wizards didn't seem to find the 14th century particularly exciting.

She picked up the last book in her pile; Magical objects, flicking through it until she found a passage on Pensieve's. The information was sparse and nothing she didn't already know, but a note at the bottom of the page made her pause. It was scribbled in looping letters and made her heart hammer in her chest.

 _Sensieve - rare relation to Pensieve, reference to it found in: Unusual and Dangerous Magical messages._

Hermione quickly leapt out of her chair, flitting through the index of books as quickly as her shaking fingers would allow her. Something told her that it was what she was looking for, that all the information she needed would be right in the book. She paused as she came to the card, lifting it up and sighing heavily. **Restricted section** was stamped in bold letters across the top. She resisted the urge to stamp her feet, gazing down forlornly at the words willing them to disappear.

"You alright, Hermione?" She whirled around to see Harry; his long hair sticking out at all angles, the remnants of snow on his jacket, his cheeks rosy from the cold. The sight made her grin. The whole Tri-wizard Tournament ordeal had meant that Harry had just been distracted, disappearing off into his own mind constantly, worry furrowing his brow. To see him smiling, enjoying himself, was a welcome sight that made her happy.

"Not really." She mumbled gazing down at the card. Harry moved forward, plucking the card from her fingers and reading it. Hermione chuckled as he held the card closer, cursing as his glasses steamed up in the warm.

"What's the problem?" He asked with a shrug, handing the card back and wiping his glasses on his jumper, only to have them steam up again when he put them back on his face.

"I'll never get a pass for this." She said sheepishly, placing the card back in its draw and shutting it away. She hoped Harry wouldn't ask any more questions; she didn't want to tell him, but she also didn't want to have to lie to him.

"So?" Harry said mischievously, a grin growing on his face, "You don't need one"

Hermione turned to him, her mouth dropping open in horror.

"I hope you're not thinking about breaking the rules, Harry Potter. You know how I feel about that." She said, half-heartedly waggling her finger in the air.

"Wouldn't dream of it, just… you know, a little bit of breaking and entering. A tiny bit of wandering around invisibly when we shouldn't be. That kind of thing." Harry whispered, waggling his eyebrows. Hermione thought about it, she'd never get the book otherwise and she really did want to see what information it contained. Considering what she'd experienced she felt it was worth it if only to know what she was dealing with.

"Fine." Harry grinned as she said it, flinging his arm around her shoulders.

"Now, how about a bit of lobbing snow at Ron? Don't tell him this, but he's kind of got me beat."

"Heard that." Ron came wandering towards them, his hair wet and a silly grin plastered across his face, and Hermione's heart stuttered a little in her chest.

"So, what's going on?"

"Hermione wants us to sneak into the restricted section late at night." Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head, her face flushing as she looked around quickly to check if anyone had heard.

"I do not, that was your idea." Harry began to chuckle, and Hermione hit him playfully on the arm.

"Alright then, count me in. Will be like the old days, better than fighting dragons ay?" Harry nodded in agreement with Ron, the smile on his face dropping considerably.

Hermione began to gather her things and follow the two boys out.

"How big is your invisibility cloak anyway, Harry?" Hermione snorted at the conspiratorial way Ron leant forward. She had to admit, it did feel like the old days, just the three of them against the world, the world back then being school and nothing else. Now it felt like other more important things were creeping in and she wasn't sure she was ready to handle it.

"I'm just thinking, you know since we've grown and all, it might not cover us all."

"It's a magical cloak, Ron. I think it will manage." Hermione dropped in haughtily.

Harry laughed as Ron stared at her dumbly for a second.

"Oh right, yeah." She grinned and linked arms with both of them, letting them lead her out of the library.


	4. Rare Magical Objects

"I told you it would be too small," Ron whispered, shuffling closer to Harry and Hermione in a desperate attempt to cover more of his body, "You can still see my legs."

"Shh." Hermione hissed, eyes trailing the shelves in front of her; she'd have worked much faster on her own but they'd insisted on coming with her. If she was entirely honest with herself though, she enjoyed their company, Hogwarts had felt very lonely when they'd refused to talk to one another.

"What is it you're looking for again?" Harry whispered, turning to search the other shelf.

"Unusual and dangerous magical messages, that's what the book said anyway." Hermione shrugged tucking her hair behind her ears.

"You know, maybe the book was wrong. It has been known to happen." Ron peered over Hermione's shoulder.

"And how would you know, you're practically allergic to them?" Ron flashed Hermione a grin.

"I just know when to trust them and when not to trust them."

"Which is ne... Oh, here it is." Hermione reached up, her fingers brushing against the binding but unable to grasp it.

"Here let me." Ron reached up his check brushing Hermione's back making her blush. She often wondered if he was ever affected by their interactions, knowing that his very presence seemed to elicit emotions and reactions within her that she was very often not prepared for. A quick peek at his face told her that she was the last thing on his mind, his tongue poking out his mouth in concentration as pulled the book from its place slowly.

"Here you go, Hermione." She gratefully took the book from him, thankful that she had something to distract her from her thoughts. They were embarrassing and not in the least bit helpful.

It was a relatively thin book, leather-bound, pages yellowed with age. Hermione opened it up holding her breath. She could sense both Harry and Ron leaning over her shoulder nosing at the information. It was typical of them really to only consider studying when it was staunchly against the rules.

Hermione turned the page and released the breath she'd been holding. There it was, the Sensieve. The picture of the white bowl glowed faintly in the light from her wand, silvery mist rising from it slowly.

"Sensieve? I've never heard of that." Ron muttered turning to Harry. 'What about you?' Harry shook his head slowly.

"It must be rare."

"It is," muttered Hermione.

"What's it say?" Ron tried to lean forward again, bumping her shoulder gently

With a sigh, Hermione began to read, "Caution reader, the Sensieve is a rare, highly powerful object, dangerous to make and volatile when used. What little there is recorded of its use and creation hint at terrible and dark magics that should never be attempted no matter how powerful the witch or wizard.

Some scholars have thought, quite wrongly, that the Sensieve holds the power to give its creator eternal life. This is a fallacy, while half the creators' soul is merged with the Sensieve so that their memories and ideals may live forever, they themselves will not." Hermione paused taking a deep breath."Much like its less powerful relation, the Sensieve works in much the same way as the Pensieve; in that stored memories can be viewed. However, this is where the similarities end; the Sensieve pulls the viewer into its depths and allows them to experience the memory first hand, feeling everything, both emotional and physical. Once the Sensieve has been entered, a bond is created between the viewer and the object, that will grow with each use. Not enough is known about the extent of the powers it holds, but some have reported its ability to draw viewers to it from anywhere in the world."

"Sounds dangerous, what the heck would be the point in giving half your soul just to store memories?" Hermione nearly jumped as Ron's hand closed around hers to turn the book so he could see it, thankfully Harry's voice snapped her out of it.

"Look it says here, the main idea of the Sensieve is to relay important information or messages that could not be relayed in the Wizard's life." Hermione wondered what message Mina wanted to relay.

"So rare it's considered a myth." Harry said in awe, "What do you need this for Hermione?" He took the book from her, glancing at the pages more closely as if the book would somehow reveal more about the strange object.

"Erm...extra studies, I'm writing a paper on rare magical objects." The words left her mouth before she had time to think about them, they were hurried and tasted strange as if they didn't belong to her.

"Why does that not surprise me?' Ron said with a sigh, glancing around.

"Well," Harry shrugged, placing the book back on the shelf, "It's a good magical object to write about. Can't imagine it would be much fun experiencing some memories though."

"No." Hermione thought of the fire, of the pain. "No, I guess not."

"Come on guys, let's get out of here, this place at night gives me the heebie-jeebies." Ron pushed the pair of them gently in the back and they began to shuffle towards the library door.

"The way you avoid it, you'd think it gives you the heebie-jeebies in the day too," Hermione commented, smiling slightly to herself when Harry tried to suppress his laughter, his shoulders shaking so violently that the invisibility cloak slipped off them, falling gently on the floor.

"Did you guys hear that?" Ron whispered, grasping Harry's arm as he bent down to retrieve his cloak. Ron's face had turned the particular shade of pale reserved for dark places and big creepy crawlies with eight legs.

"Hear what?" Harry asked confused, tipping his head slightly.

"Shhh, listen." Ron placed his finger over his lips and both Harry and Hermione paused, jumping slightly when they both heard a faint rustle, like someone turning the pages of a book.

"Someone else is in here," Hermione whispered, glancing into the shadows and dark corners of the library, trying to find the stranger.

"Who?"

"Give me a second to consult my crystal ball, Ron." Hermione spat, rolling her eyes at the stupidity.

"Well, you're the one that usually knows everything." Ron countered, crossing his arms moodily, his fear momentarily forgotten. Hermione was preparing her retort when Harry spoke.

"We should check it out." Hermione was about to lecture Harry on the idiocy of his idea, but the messy haired boy was already making his way to the sound, his invisibility cloak trailing along behind him.

"You know I think it might be a better idea, to move in the opposite direction to the strange person hanging out in the Library at night." Ron stuttered as they caught up with Harry.

"Where's the fun in that?" Harry asked, grinning slightly at his friend.

"I'm thinking less about fun and more about safety."

Hermione let her mind wander, the book had been right about one thing; the connection she felt to the Sensieve was undeniable. She'd spent the entire day been drawn back to the stairwell, her feet guiding her back there if she didn't concentrate entirely on where she needed to be. She wondered what would happen if the connection got stronger, she imagined that there would be some serious questions if she simply disappeared into thin air.

"It's Malfoy." Harry spat quietly. Hermione snapped out of her thoughts glancing down the aisle, hardly able to believe it. Sure, enough the Slytherin was gazing at a book, his wand lighting up his face making his blonde hair shimmer in the dark.

'What's he doing here?' Ron spluttered. Hermione didn't answer, but she knew. She recognised the desperation on his face, he needed answers just as much as she did.

"Maybe we should scare him?" Ron grinned evilly, and Hermione shook her head.

"Let's just go, we got what we came for." She went to turn away but neither boy moved, and the cloak slipped off her shoulders slightly. Hermione huffed and hopped back underneath it quickly.

"Guys?"

"I'm with Ron on this, he's been a particular brand of stuck up sod recently."

"Come on my, sweet." The voice came from somewhere behind them, and all three of them jumped. Filch wandered into view, lantern stretched out in front of him, sneer on his haggard face. Hermione glanced back down the aisle and found that Malfoy had already made his escape.

"We need to get out of here," Ron whispered desperately, he'd always been particularly scared of Filch ever since their first year. Most times Hermione found it funny, but she had to admit that Filch in the dark and stillness of the library looked something akin to a phantom

Slowly they shuffled towards the door, Ron tripped and swore. "It's Mrs Norris."

The cat meowed loudly and Filch turned suddenly to where the three of them stood, hidden by the invisibility cloak. "What is it, my sweet? Students out of bed?" Mrs Norris meowed again, heading back towards Ron. He reeled back, the cloak slipping off his shoulders making it seem as though he'd stepped out of thin air.

Filch lifted his lantern, "Stop right there." He spat.

"Run!" No sooner were the words out of Harry's mouth the three of them ran full pelt for the library doors, rushing through the corridors, steps echoing off the walls. When they reached the Fat Lady, they were all struggling for breath. The large woman was snoring happily in her picture frame and Hermione had to practically shout the password to wake her up.

"Oh, what are you three doing out of bed?" she scowled, pinning them each with a disapproving stare.

"Erm…nothing, just please let us in," Harry said, turning to check if Filch was coming.

"Now hold on a second there, young man. You can't just come and go as you please you know, there are rules."

"I know and we're sorry, it's just I... I left something in the Great Hall and had to go and get it." Hermione said, lifting up the invisibility cloak in Harry's hand. The Fat Lady stared at it for a moment, before sighing.

"Very well, "she said swinging open, "but make sure it doesn't happen again, can't have students wandering these halls at night you know. Such a Lady like myself has got to get plenty of beauty sleep."

Hermione watched as Ron fell back onto the sofa near the fire, his arm falling across his eyes.

"That was a close one." Harry nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he fell back onto the sofa too.

"That paper better be worth it, Hermione." Hermione grinned at Ron's words and went and joined them, staring into the flames, thinking of Mina. She knew as soon as she was able, she'd go back and figure out what message was hiding within the Sensieve.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had done an incredibly good job of avoiding Hermione Granger; he'd left rooms as she'd entered them, deliberately backtracked down corridors as she'd started walking towards him and even taken the longest possible route to classes, all in a desperate attempt to avoid the bushy-haired witch and the barrage of question he knew she'd chuck his way. She'd ask about what he saw, what he'd felt, and nothing could possibly persuade him to relive the experience. Draco's heart hammered in his chest as he thought of the agony he'd been in, the torture and the inability to do anything about it. He woke up every morning afraid that he'd be back in that man's body, unable to move, unable to speak.

He'd been so lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice the Gryffindor till she was storming right for him a determined look on her face. Draco panicked trying to turn away, cursing when a crowd of students, heading for their next class, blocked his way. Hermione stopped in front of him and Draco begrudgingly turned to her.

"Out of my way, Mudblood." His voice more like an exasperated sigh than the command he'd been hoping for. He tried to quickly dodge around her only for the know-it-all to block his path, her eyes shimmering defiantly as she looked up at him.

"We need to talk." Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"What makes you think I have anything to say to you?"

"You were there too, and I know you saw something." Hermione poked him in the chest with a long finger, watching closely as the blonde visibly paled, his throat moving as he gulped heavily. He quickly shoved his shaking hands into his pockets hoping to appear nonchalant.

"I don't know what you're talking about, bucktooth." Hermione ignored the insult, stepping closer.

"Oh please," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically, "just tell me what you saw."

"I didn't see anything." Draco lifted his chin as if suggesting that his words were final. Hermione took the gesture as a challenge and lifted her own in response, her eyes twinkling slightly as she spoke.

"So why were you in the library?" Hermione saw his eyes widen in shock and smirked triumphantly. The blonde turned his grey eyes towards her, a sneer fixing itself on his pale features.

"Stalking me now, Granger? That's low even for you." Draco cut his eyes at two younger students who seemed to have taken an interest in their conversation, looking over at the pair and whispering furiously to each other intermittently. His furious gaze, however, seemed to have had the desired effect and the pair of them scuttled away, their heads pressed close together.

"So? What if I was in the Library? It's not a crime." He shrugged.

"You were there after hours," Hermione stated wagging her finger in the air. "I wonder what could be so secret that you would have to wait till that time."

"A bit of last-minute homework," Draco said sardonically.

"I didn't think that kind of thing bothered you." Hermione noticed his jaw clenching in annoyance and had to suppress a small smile, she found annoying Malfoy strangely enjoyable.

"I'm surprised you'd be waltzing around in the Library after hours given your reputation for having a stick wedged firmly up your arse." Hermione bristled at the comment and Draco watched with fascination as anger flared in her eyes.

"Look…" she paused, breathing past how much she hated his guts, "I saw a memory too, well - lived it...I know how scary it was," Draco sneered. "Just tell me, what did you see?" her voice was soft, almost imploring and for a brief moment of madness, he thought about telling her.

"I... it doesn't matter. It's not going to happen again." he brushed past her dismissively, gritting his teeth when she continued to buzz around him, her footsteps hurried to keep up with his long strides.

"But we need to go back, we can't just leave it. What if there is more for us to find?"

"I don't care."

"But...But what if we were meant to find it?"

"There is no we, there is no us. You can go stick your nose into whatever magical bowl you so desire but leave me out of it." Hermione sped up and he could hear her shoes clicking against the floor. He was always slightly surprised by how infuriating he found her very existence.

"I already tried on my own, it doesn't work."

"Not my problem." Draco ground out.

"I read about it and it seems the Memoria Luxareo, that's the carving we found, it seems it doesn't work unle…"

Draco didn't let her finish, he stopped in his tracks and turned to her sharply, his hands curling into fists as he stepped forward. Hermione faltered, pulling her head back to create some space between them.

"Listen, Mudblood, I couldn't give a toss what any book said about it, I'm not going back there and if - for some unbelievable reason - I have a lapse in common sense and do end up back in that room, it will not be with you. Now leave me alone.'

Hermione felt a little hurt by his words but was curious about how scared he seemed. Her eyes widened in realisation.

"The memory, you were there, too weren't you?" He recoiled at the suggestion, but Hermione read the truth of it in his eyes.

"Leave me alone." He turned away stomping down the empty corridor.

"Was it, Arden?" He didn't stop. "Edward?" Hermione allowed herself a satisfied smirk as Draco froze, his shoulders rigid and she could see his hands shaking.

"Just stay out of my way, Granger." He muttered. Hermione watched him leave, letting out a long sigh as he disappeared around the corner. She wanted to get back into the room, needed to, but without Malfoy, there was no chance. She'd tried every spell imaginable on the Memoria Luxareo and none had worked. She would wait, maybe if she left it a while the blonde Slytherin would change his mind. She didn't fancy her chances, but it didn't hurt to hope.


	5. Lapse in Common Sense

Hermione brushed a stray tear off her cheek with the palm of her hand, lifting her dress up to her ankles as she quickened her pace. The Yule Ball was drawing to close and Hermione had feigned tiredness in order to get away from Viktor. She had to admit he had been the perfect gentleman making her feel like a princess all evening, but her night had been completely and utterly ruined beyond repair, by Ronald Weasley.

Ron. He hadn't noticed anything; not her dress, her makeup, the unbelievable effort she put into doing her hair. She wouldn't have minded all that much if he'd at least been civil to her, but instead, she's received a barrage of accusations none of which had been even remotely true. Hermione felt somewhat idiotic for even hoping that her dressing up would somehow change things. Ronald Weasley would never see her the way she desperately wanted him to. Another tear fell down her cheek and Hermione wiped it away angrily; no more crying, no more wasting tears.

Her anger at Ron meant that it took her a while to realise that she was no longer going in the direction that she'd intended. She'd been heading towards the Gryffindor Tower, but her steps faltered when she realised, instead of the Fat Lady, she was staring into the familiar blackness of the stairwell where she and Draco had fallen over a week ago.

They hadn't spoken in a while as she'd chosen to ignore the moody ferret, attempting to open the Memoria with new spells. None of them had been successful and she had reluctantly resigned herself to never knowing any more of Mina and the painful world of her memories.

Hermione cast a surreptitious glance around the empty halls before standing on her tiptoes to reach a torch flaming above her head. Gently she coaxed it out of its holder, grinning in triumph when it warmed her face as she held it in front of her. Grasping the material of her dress in her hand and holding the torch forward into the stairwell with the other, she made her way down into the darkness.

* * *

Draco was running, glancing back behind him every now and again to check that the angry sixth year he'd hexed wasn't following him. He was, shouting expletives along the corridor, wand pointed forward. Draco swore dodging into another corridor. He could have cried in relief when he saw the dark stairwell he'd been trying to avoid for weeks, at that moment he had never been more elated to see it. He dodged into its shadowy depths quickly and immediately bumped into something solid.

The fall was over quickly, and Draco lay for a moment trying to get his bearings. He froze when he heard the grating of stone as the stairs moved back into place and he was once again trapped.

"So, this is what a lapse in common sense looks like. Hmmm...interesting," muttered Hermione. She was up and brushing down the front of her dress, the torchlight flickered on the floor beside her making her shadow dance across the carvings.

"Oh Merlin, it had to be you didn't it. Of all the people," Draco groaned, flinging his arm across his eyes willing himself to be back in his room or, back at the Yule Ball, suffering from whatever unbelievable hex the sixth year wanted to bestow upon him.

"Quit complaining, you were the one that barged into me. We wouldn't be here if you'd just looked where you were going."

"Again, with the blaming." He breathed shaking his head. "I was being chased, Granger. Though it does seem entirely impossible that I missed your bushy mane, I did have other, more pressing matters, to worry about." He glanced at her over the top of his arm and remembered that, for once, her hair wasn't exactly bushy. He hadn't believed Pansy when she'd pointed out the know-it-all in the Great Hall, but now she stood in front of him there was no denying it.

"Being chased? Why were you being chased?" Draco pushed himself up, checking his dress robes for damage; they were dusty, but nothing that couldn't be cleaned.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry I don't remember it ever being any of your business."

Hermione huffed indignantly at his words, whirling round to pick the torch off the floor.

"This is just my luck," Draco muttered, letting his face fall into the palm of his hands.

"Oh, quit whining. This place is actually pretty impressive. Did you know that this," she pointed at the wall, "Is a Memoria Luxareo?'

"No, I didn't, how fantastically uninteresting," Draco commented drily but Hermione ignored him, carrying on with her speech.

"It's used to hide secrets. Witches and Wizards in the 14th Century used them to send each other messages, it really quite amazing. Arden Masarvas created this one, I found his initials on one of those steps."

"Merlin, do you ever shut up?" Draco sighed. "It just goes to show no matter how much you dress up a Blast-ended Skrewt, it's still just a Blast-ended Skrewt."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Hermione spat, holding the torch close to his face, Draco moved back quickly stumbling into the wall.

"It means, Granger," He said with a shrug, "That no matter how pretty you make yourself look, your still an annoying little know-it-all that no one in their right mind would look twice at." She knew he'd meant to insult her, but Hermione couldn't help but focus on one particular part of his statement.

"You think I look pretty?" she questioned, head falling to one side in curiosity. Draco's mouth opened and closed, eyes wide in horror.

"That's what you got from that?" He spluttered.

"Well..I'm...I guess." Hermione stuttered, a blush creeping onto her face. Though it was strange she had to admit she felt incredibly flattered, even if the person saying it was Draco Malfoy.

"Personally, I think you look like the wrong end of a Bundimun, what that Krum guy sees in you is beyond me. Still," he sighed pushing himself off the wall, "there's no accounting for taste."

Hermione watched him walk the length of the room lazily, anger simmering in her stomach.

"What's with that by the way?" Draco asked curiously.

"What?" Hermione snapped, inspecting the carvings and refusing to meet his mildly amused gaze.

"Krum? See, I thought you were all hot and sweaty under that bushy hair of yours, for Weasel." Hermione grit her teeth determined not to let him infuriate her. "I think it's a perfectly reasonable question. You that desperate?"

"Why do you even care?" Hermione managed to spit out, her body practically shaking in anger.

"Well, I just wanted to warn all the unfortunate sods out there that you might be on the pr...OW." Hermione had moved across the room in a flash hitting him hard across the chest. The contact didn't particularly hurt, him having stepped back just enough for the blow to be reduced to a light brush, but he grabbed at her wrists anyway. Her continued flailing posed the risk of him being hit in the face and that was an embarrassment he was not prepared to live through again.

"Seriously, Granger, chill out."

"Let me go you insufferable ferret." She kicked and spat at him for all she was worth, hatred pouring out of her.

"Me? Insufferable? Think the fall must have addled your brain, you're the pretentious little shrew that tells everyone what to do."

"Ha, hilarious coming from the git that ponces around reminding everyone how utterly important he is." Hermione mocked trying to dislodge her wrists from Draco's grasp.

"I'm sorry but only werewolves and dogs can hear anything at that register."

The two were so busy arguing they missed the light flickering around them, only stopping when the room began to brighten, and the colour bled into the carvings, bringing them to life. Hermione's breath caught, and Draco let go of her wrists stepping back and taking in the sight. The trauma of the memory had made him forget just how beautiful the carvings looked when they were all lit up.

Hermione was already striding towards the wall, reaching for the white bowl.

"'What do you think you're doing?" Draco asked, following her quickly. "I told you, I am not going back in there."

"You can stay here and rot for all I care, Malfoy. But I'm going through." With that, she pushed her finger against the carving and the walls began to shake.

Draco felt torn; torn between wanting out of the small room and Granger's annoying presence and the overwhelming fear of experiencing the pain and anguish again. He glanced up, watching as Hermione opened the stone doors with ease as if they had been waiting for their return. She stepped through the gap and disappeared. Draco waited on the threshold his heart hammering in his chest. With resolve he finally forced himself to step through making the promise that he wouldn't fall into the weird bowl again.

While he'd been dithering at the doorway, Hermione had been busy seeking out the runed pillar; she brushed her fingers against it and the floor opened up allowing the bowl to once again rise.

Draco walked past her quickly, heading towards the door at the other end of the room, hoping beyond hope that he could make his escape before Granger managed to do anything stupid.

Suddenly an unseen force pulled at his legs dragging him towards the centre of the room. He grasped at one of the green pillars in a panic, holding on tightly as his legs were lifted clear off the ground.

"Mudblood, what in Merlin's name did you do?" He screeched.

"It wasn't me…I swear," she paused, realisation slowly dawning on her. "It's the Sensieve."

"The what?"

"Sensieve, that's what this is," she gestured to the object floating in front of her. "It's like a Pensieve, only you experience the memory rather than just view it. The book said that after using it once the Sensieve and the person who used it are connected in some way. Like a bond." She was mesmerised by the silver mist swirling in its depths, stepping closer without thinking.

"I don't want to be connected to it, make it stop. Seriously, Granger, my father is going to hear about this." He spat.

Hermione chuckled lightly,

"And what's your father going to do about it, Malfoy. You going to try and get a bowl executed too?"

Everything Draco said to her after that simply bounced off her head, her entire focus on the contents of the bowl as it drew her forward. Draco watched as the silvery mist solidified into the shape of a hand that reached out to Hermione. She didn't hesitate, allowing the mist to grip her fingers and pull her into the Sensieve's depths.

Draco screamed, gripping onto the pillar harder as the pull on his legs intensified. He watched helplessly as his fingers, one by one, lost their grip. With one last cry he was tugged in, enveloped in the crush of thousands of emotions that made it hard to breathe.


	6. The Masquerade Ball

The change was bewildering, one minute his arms were flailing as he fell and the next his feet were planted on solid ground. The sound of delicate music and quiet chatter replaced the voices and the red face of a rather large man replaced the ever-changing colours of the mist. Draco tried to move, panic settling in the pit of his stomach when he realised, that once again, he had no control. He was trapped.

"Commander." The man spoke. He was dressed in a suit of gold and red so bright it made Draco's head hurt.

"Ah, Lord Barnes, a pleasure." Draco felt the strain in Edwards' words as he spoke, drawing the obvious conclusion that talking to the larger man was anything but a pleasure.

Edward bowed slightly to Lord Barnes, allowing Draco a glimpse at the tiny crystal glass he held awkwardly in his large hands.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." Lord Barnes commented, his voice clipped, his own bow barely perceptible due to the sheer size of his belly.

"How are things out there, we showing those miscreants what for?" Lord Barnes spoke enthusiastically, raising his fist and shaking it in the air. Edward suspected the man had no idea what war was being waged and against whom, but nodded his head regardless.

"My men are the best, victory shall be ours before long." There was no confidence in his words. He and his men had been sent to the highlands on the whim of the king, having heard rumours of a grand castle that he simply could not leave to the hands of such barbarians. Any battle fought that far north was destined to end badly, but he and his men had got farther than most, their success owed mainly to Rhylan who was his eyes and ears and somehow managed to traverse the highlands far better than a native. The King's sudden need for his presence in court had caught him a little by surprise, dragging him back home where he was bombarded by invitations to various rich people's homes, where they peppered him with questions of the battlefield, their eyes wide and needy as they begged for descriptions of the witches he had slaughtered.

"Very good, very good. You'll be back out there before long I shouldn't think. Doing what you do best." Edward smiled uncomfortably at his words, grimacing down into his crystal glass.

"I shouldn't think. The King only wished my opinion on a small matter." Edward shifted his feet, breathing a sigh of relief when the man appeared not to have seen through his lie. It was true it was a small, minuscule matter, but it was a worrying matter that filled his heart with dread. Eradication, extermination were just some of the words that had been bandied about as the king nodded his head in agreement, asking leading questions of him about the state of the magic users. They were dangerous there was no doubt about it, more powerful than he'd ever expected. But they died just as easily as any man when cleaved in two and he wasn't sure he could agree with the complete destruction of a race, no matter how problematic they seemed.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Now you must have stories of the front line..." To Edwards relief a woman gracefully appeared at Lord Barnes' side, interrupting the dreadful question he'd been about to ask. "Ahh, Commander may I present, Lady Sophia Barnes, my wife. My dear, this is Commander Edward James, the man I was telling you about."

The woman was incredibly beautiful, her red hair braided and hanging over one shoulder, the length of it trailing down, drawing attention to her ample bosom.

"Finally, we meet. My husband has told me all about you. Somewhat of a celebrity so I'm told. Youngest ever Commander in a hundred years, tis no mean feat." Her voice was sultry as she pushed her hand between them. Edward bowed again, taking her fingers in his and pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. The heady scent of spices was incredibly intoxicating, leaving Draco feeling a little dazed. The woman flushed, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.

"I assure you that what I have achieved is nothing so grand." Draco felt Edwards sadness as his mind was filled with images of death and slaughter, good men that he had known and lost.

"Nonsense man. Ahh, Lord Vond. Dear, keep Commander James here entertained while I go and see to our other guests." He muttered, turning to Edward once more, "Always an honour."

Edward gulped at his wine, turning to the admire his surroundings and the sight left Draco in awe.

The hall was vast, carved vines wound their way up the walls and across the ceiling, painted in the same gold as Lord Barnes' attire. Red roses were carved in bloom surrounding a large chandelier that Lord Barnes had assured Edward was of the finest crystal and Draco could believe it, his own home housing something very similar but he was sure the one in the Malfoy Manor ballroom did not sparkle so much.

There were people dancing, their clothes unlike anything Draco had seen before; the women wore huge colourful gowns that sashayed as they danced, and the men wore tunics embroidered with dizzying patterns. Draco noticed that almost everyone was wearing a mask of some kind, with feathers and sequins and all number of jewels attached to them. Draco felt slightly more at ease, it reminded him of the balls his mother and father hosted. If there was one thing he knew well, it was etiquette.

"How are you enjoying the masquerade, my husband invited only the best." Draco felt Lady Sophia's arm slip through Edward's, her upper body pressed flush against him.

"Quite well, my Lady. You and your husband have excellent taste." Lady Sophia flushed, slapping his arm playfully.

"You flatter me, please call me Sophia." The second part was added like a secret that made Edward feel uncomfortable, Draco could feel a knot of uncertainty in his gut.

"I bet this," she elegantly gestured to the hall around them, "is far more enjoyable than the battlefield?" Edward didn't seem to agree wholeheartedly with the comment; while he considered the lack of death a definite improvement, the huge ballroom was by no means a safe place. He remembered his father warning him that, the worst kind of viper's dress in the finest clothes, the poison slow to spread and ever more fatal than any wound inflicted by a blade.

"I know where I stand on the battlefield, my lady." He mumbled taking another drink. Lady Sophia seemed unimpressed with this answer.

"I've told you, call me, Sophia." He ignored the comment, choosing instead to glance around the hall, there were faces that Edward seemed to recognise and didn't rate too highly. Draco couldn't keep up with all the memories and so gave up, trying to drown them out with his own thoughts. He wondered vaguely where Granger was, cursing her for getting them into this mess.

Edward turned, crystal glass pausing mid-sip as he noticed the couple who had entered the hall. The man was hardly worth mentioning, not even registering for Edward as he looked at the woman. All the memories cleared apart from one; a young girl, her face defiant and angry, green eyes glittering with such bravery.

" _You're just a bully and you always will be."_

Draco felt familiarity settle over him as he realised she was the girl from the fire, she was Mina. She looked beautiful, staggeringly beautiful; a butterfly mask covered most of her face, and the dress she wore was moonlight silver, sequins shimmering on its surface as she walked. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun, curled strands of it breaking free and framing her lovely face.

Draco panicked as he recognised the man, Arden. He looked younger and healthier, but there was no denying it, even without the robes he could point him out anywhere. He could feel the fear, muted beneath all of Edwards emotions and wished that he had some sort of power, some sort of control. Instead, he was helpless, leaning close in Edwards body to whisper something to Lady Sophia".

"My lady, who is that?"

"I do not know, one of Lord Arden acquaintances would be my guess. That man has always had… peculiar tastes." Edward wasn't listening, he watched as Lord Arden moved away to talk to some men and left her standing alone.

"Excuse me a minute." He mumbled, making his way around the dancing couples to where she stood.

Confident and self-assured, Edward stopped by her side and spoke,

"Forgive me, I do not believe I know your name." The woman turned to him, a small smile playing on her lips, green eyes glittering in amusement from behind the mask.

"You're forgiven, I have not told anyone my name."

"A travesty I'm sure." Edward's words, though sounding gentlemanly and assured, seemed somehow wrong, as though the man had practised such things over and over, perfecting them. Draco knew the difference, he had seen it in witches and wizards who had married into privilege rather than being born into it as he had. Their conversations, though correct, always felt stilted and the way in which they navigated any social gathering seemed slower somehow as if they were moving through water. The only individual he had ever met who had perfected the art and not been born into it was Blaise' mother, but then she was a special case, been a head and shoulder above even those that had been born into the pureblood world.

"On the contrary, I think those who make themselves known are overcompensating for something, Commander James.' She flashed him a sickly-sweet smile and Edward chuckled, a flush of joy rushing through him at her obvious disdain for his attempt at conversation.

"A butterfly, that's an interesting choice," he said gesturing to the mask on her face. She nodded, tilting her head to one side.

"I've always found them to be incredibly, magical creatures." As she said the word magical her eyes glittered with delight and Draco thought he saw the wings of the butterfly move a little.

Edward shifted uncomfortably, glancing around quickly before leaning forward,

"A dangerous word to be using around these times, my lady."

She smiled and dismissed his warning with a sigh,

"I fear that it is the only word worth using around these times." Edward shook his head in disbelief, stepping in front of her.

'Surely you cannot mean that?' He asked seeming both invigorated and unnerved by the nerve of her.

"And if I do, Commander?" She raised one lovely eyebrow.

'The you should speak of it quietly, my lady. There are large ears and small minds that surround you."

"And which do you have, Commander?" Edward seemed to consider the question seriously, tapping the crystal of his glass and gazing across the sea of aristocrats in their little huddles, no doubt whispering about 'the young commander and the beautiful stranger' idly concocting rumours of how such a pair came to be so acquainted.

"I have seen the evil magic has wrought, forgive me if my mind is a little closed to such mutterings."

Mina's nose wrinkled in anger, her small mouth pressed in a cold, hard line.

"And what of the evil men have wrought? Innocent lives lost, for what? For fear of the unknown, because of differences that are neither evil nor the devil's work, just differences."

"You are passionate, My Lady, but you cannot speak of what you do not know. I have fought battles against such individuals that practice these arts, they are known to me and I fear them all the more for it."

"What I do not know," Mina muttered it to herself, laughing humourlessly. "You believe yourself an expert, Commander, because you have murdered people with this gift."

"Those that have tried to murder to me yes, as is anyone's right. I did what I did for myself and for the people I protect." Though Edward drew himself up to his full height, Draco felt no pride in his words, as if the man did not fully believe them himself.

"You speak as though you are a hero, but all I see is a bully with a big sword." Edward drew back slightly at her accusation.

"A bully? What must you think of these individuals that as you say are so _gifted_? Are they bullies for drawing first blood? Or are they, as you seem to believe justified in their attack."

"War is never justified, only little soldiers like you claim it so."

"Little soldiers, My Lady…"

"There are two sides to every story. You pity the hunter who is killed by a beast, and rally together to bring back its head and garb yourselves with its pelt. And what of the pups that starve in the cold, without their mother protection, without her to warm and feed them? You are blinded by your rage, by your anger and your hatred so much so that you only see your side of a tragic story, when the truth is so much more brutal."

"There is little that could surpass the brutality that I have seen."

"Perhaps," she finally met his gaze, "but have you ever considered magic users as anything more than a threat."

"Should I have?" Mina's eyes flared with anger, her chest rising and falling.

"Only a fool would not consider such."

"You have dangerous ideals, My Lady."

"They are the only ideals worth having, especially when talking to men like you. Good night, Commander." She moved to step around him, but Edward caught her small hand in his. Draco watched the same memory of the little girl with bright green eyes, flicker into view.

"I'm sorry if I offended you. Please allow me to change your mind about me, My lady."

"How would you propose to do that? To do anything so mystical as go back in time, is the devil's work." She bit back sarcastically, and Edward chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"You're unlike any woman I have ever met."

"You should fight fewer battles and talk to people more, perhaps it will challenge that narrow mind of yours into opening a little." She raised her chin into the air and Edward admired the line of her neck.

"I doubt any would enthral me quite like you." He paused, stepping back and lifting his hand with a bow. "Allow me this dance, my lady, and let me at least attempt to change your mind."

She stared at his hand for some time, looking uncertainly at those who had stopped to watch the drama unfold. Eventually, she stepped forward, her soft hand slipping into his, allowing him to lead her to where the other couples were dancing. Standing in front of one another, they began the steps. If he could of Draco would have shook his head at the graceless display that was Edwards attempt at dancing. Luckily Mina seemed to find it a little endearing, her lips curving slightly before she fought back a smile.

"Tell me your name."

"I thought this was about you trying to convince me that I was wrong about you. I don't see how my name has any bearing on that."

"Forgive me," He nodded, stepping around her till he was once again looking her in the eye, "you're right," with a sigh, he continued, "when I was a boy…"

"We're going back that far? I fear we only have one dance sir, not all night." He laughed at her wit and noticed with a flush of pleasure that she was smiling also.

"If you will but let me speak, my lady?" He grinned as she blushed, her cheeks turning the most handsome shade of red.

"When I was a boy, I was strong." Mina rolled her eyes, he ignored her and continued, "In the day I would wander into the forest behind my house, trying to find anything that I could fight and kill to prove myself to my father."

They stepped away from one another and Edward paused in his story, but Draco could still see it playing in his mind.

"One day I found one of them, practising his spells. A boy just like me. I thought if I brought him back to my father then he would be proud. I... I hurt him." The woman was obviously enthralled by the story.

"What did you do?" She asked in awe.

"I hit him and hit him till blood poured from him. He begged me to stop but I…I didn't listen." Draco could feel Edwards guilt, as he smiled sadly at Mina. "His little friend tried to stop me and I was going to hurt her too. Then…" Mina's brow furrowed as he laughed. "then a little girl stepped between us, she was fierce and angry. She told me that I was nothing but a bully and that was all I would be." He looked down at her pointedly and Mina deliberately avoided his gaze. "I fear that she may have been right, I know little of that young boy, what he felt, what I did to him, though I do remember something…"

He noticed that her hands were shaking with fear.

"Really?" She asked, lifting her chin in defiance, an action that reminded Draco far too much of Granger.

Edward nodded.

"Wh... what's that?" she stuttered. Edward stopped dancing, leaning close to whisper.

"The boy's name was Arden." She jerked away, but he gripped her wrist tightly, holding her in place.

"Do not worry, your friend will not come to harm, just tell me your name." He asked his eyes pleading. She tried to get away, but he gripped harder.

"Please." Her gaze seemed to soften.

"You're still a bully aren't you. Desperate to get what you want." Edward's heart sped up in his chest.

"I knew it was you...the moment I saw you…please...your name?"

"I... I…" she stuttered looking behind her at Arden who now stood staring at them both, anger evident on his face.

"Please, my lady?" She paused in her struggle, smiling gently.

"Commander James, I assure you, I am no lady." Edward shook his head, the pad of his thumb brushing the back of her hand marvelling at the softness.

"That matters little to me." She flushed again, the view pleasing Edward thoroughly.

"My name is Mina. Good night, Commander James." She went to move away again but he held fast.

"Please, call me Edward."

With a nod, she smiled. "Good night...Edward," she muttered, green eyes boring into his.

Draco was shocked when the face in front of him was no longer Mina's but Grangers. He ripped his hand from hers quickly, sneering down at her. Hermione however seemed not to have noticed, gazing up at him in awe.

"What, Granger?"

"Can you believe how beautiful it was, how real?"

"Does it matter, Granger? They're dead now." He headed towards the door, brushing his fringe from his face and wiping the 'mudblood' germs off his other hand.

"That can't be it, there has to be a reason why we are seeing this."

"Yes, Granger there is," he stopped turning to her, "it's because you can't keep your nose out of anything. You've just got to go ahead and poke your snout where it doesn't belong."

"Come on, Malfoy, you've got to be a bit curious." Draco shook his head, hoping she wouldn't notice he was lying. Of course, he was curious, he'd been sucked into a magical bowl twice now and experienced the memories of a man he had never even heard of, how could he not be?

"Fine...fine, just shut up, please," Malfoy spat, rolling his eyes when Hermione grinned with delight.

"Great," Hermione muttered, walking up to where he stood. "We'll arrange a time next week."

"Whatever, I swear to Salazar, Granger if you're late or mess me about, this ends."

He walked to the door but stopped suddenly.

"And don't you dare tell a soul." With that, he left the room and Hermione quickly followed him, a grin plastered on her face.


	7. Slytherin Golden Boy

Hermione pressed herself further into the alcove, studying the students milling about in front of her, the noise of various conversations drifting up and echoing around the large stone ceiling. She caught snippets here and there, mostly about classes and teachers, about boys and potions. She sighed, leaning back against the wall. He should have been there by now. She knew she shouldn't have expected Draco Malfoy to keep his word, regardless of a promise having been made.

She'd done exactly as he'd asked, not mentioning their adventures to a soul and turning up at the meeting point early so as not to incur the Slytherin's wrath by being so much as a second late. She'd risked been caught, lingering in the corridor like a fool expecting him to turn up. When an hour had finally rolled by it finally dawned on her how idiotic she had been to trust Draco Malfoy to any degree.

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, eyes searching the crowd. She was certain he'd turn up now though. Waltzing up to him while he was stood with his fellow Slytherins, had definitely raised a few eyebrows, and news of him meeting her at night had led to some serious questions been hissed in the blonde's general direction.

She smirked when she noticed a disgruntled Malfoy making his way toward the alcove, pushing students aside angrily.

"I hardly expected you to turn up," she mused when he shouldered his way into the alcove next to her.

"And I hardly expected to be this annoying, yay for us, we're both surprised," Draco bit out sarcastically "Now, you mind explaining what that little stunt was earlier?" He asked, pushing himself against the stone behind him, trying to avoid the vast expanse of her hair.

"You know exactly what that was about," Hermione whispered furiously, poking her finger into his chest. He tried to get further away, rubbing the spot she'd poked with a sneer.

"I have no idea what you are on about, Granger." His eyes widened in feigned innocence, making Hermione growl in frustration.

"We made plans, Malfoy. You...you promised." Hermione gritted her teeth as the blonde raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of him.

"I think you'll find I did no such thing, Granger."

Hermione's mouth fell open at the nerve of him.

"I should close that before someone mistakes it for a cave." Hermione shut her mouth quickly, poking Malfoy in the chest again.

"You know you agreed."

"Stop touching me touch me," he spat, pushing her hand away, "besides, so what if I "agreed", it's not binding, Granger. I can change my mind."

She hated the fact that he had a point, a selfish and annoying point, but a point none-the-less. Her mouth opened and closed with all the questions she wanted to ask but thought better of. Asking him why he didn't want to know the Sensieve's secrets would do little but insight his scorn and she'd had enough of that for a lifetime. But she couldn't understand it, how could he not want to know?

"You make a compelling argument," he drawled sarcastically, "now if that's all?"

"No that is not all. What are you so scared of?" Draco glared down at her, the flare of his nostrils telling her that she'd touched a nerve.

"I am not scared, Granger, I would just prefer not to spend any extra time with this." He gestured to her dismissively.

"You are scared, and you know it." she cocked head to the one side, stepping closer. "What happened the first time we fell in there?"

Malfoy looked away and Hermione watched him gulp heavily. "Nothing okay, Granger. You might be interested in the feelings of two dead people, but I'm not."

"I'll tell everyone, I'll tell all your little friends how scared you were of a bowl." She knew it wasn't much, nothing in fact and even as she said it she realised how much punch it lacked. It wasn't like Malfoy couldn't talk himself out of it.

Draco laughed harshly, "And I'll tell everyone, Miss Prude has a crush on the Ginger weasel, I think quite a few of my, "little friends" would be incredibly interested in that little snippet of information."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" She knew he would, in fact, she was surprised he hadn't yet given how much he loved to make her life a living hell.

"Look...let's not be hasty," she said quietly, lowering her head in shame. Losing an argument always sat uncomfortably with her, losing an argument to Draco Malfoy was unbearable.

"Well, well, well, the little Gryffindor's not so brave. Perhaps you're more of a Hufflepuff, emphasis on the puff."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy, your retorts are juvenile." She crossed her arms turning back to him, her face imploring, "You know there's something in there, what if it's important?"

"Well then, I'm sure Potter will get around to it when he's stopped getting involved in everything else." Hermione scoffed at how pitifully jealous he sounded.

"Wouldn't you rather be the one to find it." That at least seemed to make him think, he paused, gazing down at her curiously.

"HERMIONE." Hermione turned, as Harry shouted her name, pushing past the few remaining students and heading towards where she stood. When she turned back, Malfoy was already stalking down the corridor, away from them. She sighed, shoulders slumping. Trying to get Malfoy to commit to anything felt like taking one step forward, straight over the edge of a cliff. At that moment she felt like she'd plummeted to the bottom and was gazing up at an impossible climb.

"You alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, watching Draco's retreating back with suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, waving off his concern and picking her bag up off the floor.

"You sure, it looked like the ferret was bothering you." Hermione chuckled half-heartedly.

"You know, nothing new. He just said I should keep moving, lest a bird mistake my hair for a nest. He needs new material." Harry agreed with a nod, glancing down the corridor one more time, before talking about Ron.

Hermione had not spoken to him since the Ball, his ignorance still hurting her whenever she saw him. Harry had tried to intervene on his behalf, attempting to bring the two together under the most tenuous of pretences. Hermione appreciated his attempts and the heart behind it, but she wanted to remain angry at Ron for a little longer. She tuned Harry out, her gaze wandering as her mind did the same. Her eyes widened as she spotted Malfoy, he'd stopped at the end of the corridor and was staring at her. She'd known him to sneer, to scoff, to glance at her with hatred and malice, but the look in his eyes was not something she recognised. It made her feel uncomfortable.

"You coming, Mione?" Harry asked, twisting to look at her in the alcove, still staring at the spot where Malfoy had been. She nodded quickly.

"Yeah." Lowering her head and quickly following her friend back to the common room, hoping that the Slytherin would change his mind, the thought of never seeing Mina's memories again, filled her with dread.

* * *

She couldn't believe she was doing it again, sneaking a peek around the corner, before pushing herself round it and tiptoeing towards the stairwell. She'd been doing the same thing for days, always having the best intentions; getting herself into bed, lying awake and willing herself asleep and almost immediately giving up because it was impossible. The pull of the Sensieve was palpable, like a gentle tug at her skin that made it tingle, growing in strength with every day that passed. The bond was getting stronger, just like the book had said and, even when it wasn't pulling at her, she could feel the magic. It sparked and shimmered in the air around her, making her feel warm. She sometimes wondered how other people didn't feel it, or in particular, how Malfoy couldn't seem to feel it.

Her steps faltered as she made her way to the shadowy depths of the stairs. There was a rope, it looped and knotted around a metal ring jutting out the stone wall and fell into the darkness. Hermione's heart hammered. Had someone else found their secret?

She felt possessive, jealous that someone else would be stepping where only she and Malfoy had been. The thought was absurd, and she tried to brush it away, but as she stepped forward, the feeling grew. She didn't want other people experiencing Mina and Edwards memories, she didn't want them to find the magical room, where the weather fell from the ceiling and popped in magical bursts when it hit her skin. She wanted it to be theirs, just or her and just for Malfoy.

She pushed forward bravely, trying to be as quiet as she possibly could. She noticed that there was a faint glow emanating from further down the stairs, realising with dread that the imposter managed to find the hidden compartment. Panicking, she stepped down, kneeling and glancing hesitantly into the hole below.

Her breath caught, as she took in the sight of Malfoy, his uniform was unusually unkempt, and his hair was sticking out at odd angles like he'd just got out of bed. He was staring at the carvings in frustration.

"Alohomora," he whispered harshly, and nothing happened.

"That doesn't work," Stated Hermione matter of factly, making her way down into the room, gripping the rope as she descended.

"Merlin, Granger," Draco shouted, clutching his chest, and jumping away in fright. Fright turned to instant annoyance. "What are you doing here?"

"I think I could ask you the same question," she shrugged, her feet finally touching the solid ground of the room. She smiled at the familiar grating noise of the steps moving back into place. When she looked down at her hand, she found that the rope she'd been holding had disappeared. "Hmmm, interesting."

"Yeah, well I asked first." He seemed uncomfortable, getting as far away from the Gryffindor as possible, wand gripped so hard in his hand, that his knuckles turned white.

Hermione shrugged, "It's the Sensieve, I feel drawn to it."

"You feel that too?" Draco eyes widened, his voice shaking, Hermione hardly knew what to say having never seen the Slytherin react with anything but disdain. As if realising his mistake, Draco fell back heavily against the wall, clearing his throat. The sound shocked Hermione out of her reverie, allowing her to find her voice.

"Yeah, I do. All the time. I feel it all around me, it's amazing isn't it," she breathed, glancing at him.

"Whatever, Granger." Whatever usually hidden part of Draco she had seen had, once again, been effectively muffled by the arsehole that he was.

"So, couldn't stay away? Wanted to try your luck at being the Golden boy for a change," she joked, her small mouth turning up slightly in amusement. The look Draco gave her could have killed and with a gulp, her smile fell away.

"Why would I want to be anything like Potter?" Draco began searching for a way out, a way out that didn't involve going past the infernal bowl, because of course Granger would somehow make sure they ended up back in it and that was something he couldn't allow. The bond already meant he didn't get much sleep, and when he wasn't thinking about Edward, or Mina, or the stupid white bowl, he was thinking about the bushy-haired Know-it-all, and that absolutely was not okay.

"Why do you hate, Harry so much?" She asked the room was already beginning to light up, the carvings coming to life. She noticed that it happened a lot quicker than last time.

Draco shrugged, "He's a goody two shoes, with annoying friends, what's not to hate?" Hermione gritted her teeth, touching the carving of the bowl and waiting for the doors to open.

"Plenty of people think he's a really nice guy you know," she gave him a side glance, noticing that he was again staring at her weirdly like she was a puzzle and he was confused by its general existence.

Draco scoffed, "Well obviously, I've misjudged him." Sarcasm dripped off each syllable and Hermione grit her teeth again, her jaw beginning to ache. She shook her head and stepped through the stone doors, her annoyance instantly forgotten at the sight of the green pillars.

It wasn't snowing but she could see her breath in the air.

"You want to know what I think?" she turned back to Draco, who was grumbling behind her.

"Nope, but I guarantee you're going to tell me anyway."

"I think you're jealous," Hermione threw it over her shoulder as her hand fell away from the glowing rune, and the white bowl once again rose from the floor.

"Oh really?" He smirked, crossing his arms, "and what, pray tell, would I be jealous of? Having you and Weasley as friends? Getting a constant update on your know-it-allness and Weasleys stupidity? You really are a mind reader, Granger, how did you see through me like that?"

Hermione stepped toward him, smirking. "I think you're jealous because no matter what you do, Harry will always be better."

She felt triumphant when his grey eyes met her coldly, his jaw clenching in anger. She'd touched a nerve, she could tell, a huge nerve. She'd always wondered what had spurned so much hatred within him, now she knew. He wanted to be Harry Potter, he wanted to be seen, to be noticed, he wanted to be the golden boy. The fact that he wasn't, the fact that he never would be, infuriated him.

"You know what? Shove this thing," Draco pointed violently at the Sensieve, "up your prissy little arse, that is if you can get it past the stick already wedged up there." He stormed past her, away from the Sensieve, away from her. Apart of her felt almost sorry for him, almost guilty. She knew what it was like to feel invisible, to feel like an extra in someone else's perfect existence. The thought shocked her into stillness, feeling sorry for Draco Malfoy was not something she was used to.

The silvery mist tumbled out the bowl in great plumes, filling the room with pearlescent fog. It engulfed her, wrapping her in the warmth of emotions and feelings. She closed her eyes and let them wash over her, other people's emotions, other people's feelings were better than feeling sorry for the ferret, much easier to understand.


	8. One Distinction

The noise of the market was almost unbearable; haggling, shouting, the delighted squeals of children, laughter and the cries of animals that were left to graze in the mud. Mina bundled soft fabrics into a basket and glanced up, a small smile playing on her face as she watched people bustle through the crowds. There was a chill to the day and, despite the muted light of the sun high in the sky, frost still glittered on the ground. The air was thick with a haze of smoke that did little to cover the cacophony of smells that mingled together in a sickly fragrance that made Hermione feel sick.

"You heard then, about Arden?" Mina turned towards the voice, her smile disappearing. The woman's hair was short and boyish, features pointed and pixie-like. Her plain brown dress frayed at her ankles, so different from the opulence of the fabric which she folded neatly and laid out on their tiny stall. When she turned to Mina her brown eyes shone with a secret.

"Shhh, not here, Sonyea," Mina muttered, nodding at a passing mother, dragging her small child behind her, a basket full of vegetables balanced on her hip.

"He speaks of a secret order, that only the best can join." She chuckled a little to herself, leaning her head closer and whispering in Mina's ear, "He said, he'll call them Ordo Lucis, The Order of Light."

"Sonyea, shh."

Mina knew. Arden had spoken to her of his plans, a savage glint of revenge had flickered in his eyes and the sight had made her draw back a little. She was no stranger to the spite and pettiness of Arden - he had always been a weak and teary child - but she had never seen such hate. The Battle of Black Lake - as it had now been named - had divided many magic users. The slaughter had led many witches and wizards to voice their hatred for muggles, beginning to impress the need for change among their people, while others spoke of separating themselves entirely from the muggle world. It had been done before by others; witches, wizards, magical creatures alike had hidden their world from muggles and now it seemed that many felt it was time to follow in their footsteps.

Mina didn't know what to think. No matter how many stories she heard about the Battle, she couldn't find it within herself to justify the arguments of either side. Arden, however, had taken a definitive stance, insighting hatred among those that would listen to him, speaking strongly of all the wrongdoings that had been acted upon them over the years. He had known little of this suffering, been protected as he was by his family name and title, but for some reason, people listened to him.

"I think he's crazy. He's always been the same, jumping from one idea to the next." Sonyea shook her head, tutting under her breath. There was a warmth in her words, a warmth that Hermione did not miss. It was the same warmth she felt when she berated Ron for his frequent idiotic behaviour. Mina smiled, wondering why it was that Arden did not seek Sonyea's counsel more, yes, she could be ruthless, but there was always truth and care in her words.

"I don't know what to think, these days," Mina mumbled, more to herself. Maybe, years ago, she would have been more decisive but now she felt as though everything was muddled in her mind and every thought always came back to Edward. His name had become famous among her people, the leader of the muggles that had slaughtered so many of their own during the Battle of Black lake. She knew that she should hate him, but her feelings always circled back round to the Ball and the way that he had looked at her. It had been a year, a full year since he had asked her to dance, a whole year since he'd grabbed her hand and begged for her name. She had not expected to see him again but apart of her had always hoped.

"Has, Arden spoke any more of his proposal?" Sonyea asked, pulling Mina out of her thoughts. Sickness knotted in her stomach at the the sad and suffocating idea that Arden had stuttered at her, his cheeks flushed and hope in his eyes. He had spoken of honour, of their match being a right and unspoken certainty that he had always held to. She had been able to say little, opening and closing her mouth at the formal way in which he professed his adoration; she loved Arden deeply, as though he were a brother wanting only the very best for him, but she had never seen him as anything other than that. She could never imagine Arden making her feel the way that Edward had.

"No, I don't think anything will come of it." She shook her head, hoping that there was only truth in her statement. Arden way many things, but he would never force to do anything against her will, especially not marriage.

"How much?" Mina felt a little dizzy as she sucked in a breath, holding it in an attempt to calm herself. It was his voice. Instantly she was back at the ball, breathless at the way he challenged her, infuriated her. She looked up certain the mischievous glint in his eyes was because he could hear her heart hammering desperately against her ribcage. He smiled quickly, chasing dimples into his cheeks.

"You have been incredibly difficult to track down, my lady. My purse is, significantly lighter." Mina bit back a smile, taking in the sight of him. In many ways, he looked the same as the last time she had seen him but there was something more, something within his eyes that had not been there before. She realised that he looked so much more tired than he had before, his shoulders slumped with the weight of exhaustion.

"I hope you do not expect a discount, our prices are as they are, no exceptions." she tried to keep her voice level, her face neutral, but she could feel Sonyea's gaze on her and knew that she was hiding very little.

"I would expect no less, my lady," He grinned, turning as a man came to his side, his clothes plain and ragged. Mina glanced at him curiously as he drew Edward away and began whispering furiously in his ear.

"What was that about?" Sonyea hissed next to her, grasping Mina's arm as she attempted to lean forward and listen in on the conversation that had Edward frowning.

"That's, Commander James," she mumbled, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to seem nonchalant, rearranging the material in front of her as a way of avoiding Sonyea's gaze.

"I know who it is, Mina, I want to know why he's been looking for you, does...does he know?" Mina looked up at her friend sharply.

"Don't be silly. I have a little more about me than to announce that to everyone. Especially with the way things are." Sonyea nodded grimly, releasing her grip on her arm and squinting at Edward suspiciously.

"Then why is he...wait...is he? He's the man from the ball, isn't he?" Mina said nothing, wincing at Sonyea's sharp intake of breath. Sonyea always knew, when she'd returned from the ball, she had been the only one to instantly notice a difference in her.

"The man you have been pining for, all year is Commander Edward James? _The_ Commander Edward James? Do you know what they say about him?"

"Shhh, I know, I know. I have heard it all before. Nothing will happen, trust me. I will inform him that..." Mina could not finish her sentence, the thought him disappearing off into the crowd and never seeking her out again filled her with dread. The hypocrisy of her feelings was not lost on her; he was famous for killing so many of her kind and yet he had protected Arden and yet, he made her feel...

"Well, I think it's brilliant." Mina's head whirled at her friend's words, narrowing her eyes at the small woman in confusion.

'Sonyea, I don't...what?'

"You want peace? Want to change people's minds? Who better to have on your side than a Commander, a man that is revered and trusted by his own people?"

"I don't…."

"And you said he knew about Arden and hasn't done anything. Don't you want to know why?"

She did, it burned in her heart ferociously, and such a need made her hesitant.

"I can't…"

"Yes, you can. Just...just talk to him."

"But Sonyea, your father." There was a twinge in Hermione's chest as she felt Mina's pain. Sonyea paused, glancing down at the floor to hide the glimmer of tears in her eyes. Her father had been a good man and he had died needlessly at the Battle of Black Lake.

"A pointless war killed my father, and wars don't stop while fingers are being pointed." Mina smiled warmly at her friend, jumping slightly when Edward stepped back towards the stall, the man who he had been talking to having melted into the crowd leaving not a hint that he had ever been there.

"My lady," Edward cleared his throat and Mina turned, her breath catching once again "I wondered if I could...If you would do me the honour of walking with me." Mina wished she had her mask back in place to act as a barrier between them so she did not feel so exposed to his searching and hopeful eyes.

"I…I…"

"Yes, she will." Mina looked down at her friend who was nudging her gently towards the man.

"I don't know, the stall."

"Not to worry, we haven't been terribly busy all day. I'm fine here, you go ahead." Sonyea shooed her quickly, bustling her from behind the stand until she stood in front of him. She clenched her jaw and lifted her head haughtily, trying to preserve what little dignity she had left.

"One walk, Commander." He chuckled slightly.

"One is more than I ever expected you to grant me, my lady."

They walked through the market quietly, her hands clutched in front of her, and his joined behind his back. The stalls came to an end and soon they were walking out of the village, wandering into the forest that lay on the outskirts. Shafts of misty light were broken by the branches, and crisp browned leaves crunched beneath their feet. The air was still here and fresh. Mina breathed in deeply closing her eyes and savouring the quiet. The noise of the market sounded so far away now, so distant.

"This reminds me of when we first met, Mina." Hermione noticed the pause before he said her name as if he was savouring it. He stopped and turned to her, blue eyes meeting Mina's as she blinked at him.

The image of a chubby little boy with filthy cheeks and a mean face flashed through Mina's mind. Hardly anything remained of the child, in the man stood before her; his shoulders so much broader, his body so much leaner, skin darker and manner kinder, heavier with the world but far more relaxed in it.

"Taking liberties now we are alone, Commander?" she asked, sniffing slightly, trying to cover up just how nervous she felt at being alone with him.

"Please, call me Edward."

"I'll call you what I wish." She answered curtly, bristling slightly when he laughed, turning away to carry on walking deeper into the forest. She hesitated, wondering if it was the best idea to follow him. She knew there was nothing to fear from him but that was what frightened her the most. He was a killer, a man who had the blood of his people on her hands and yet, she trusted him more than most, wilfully following him, her heart ever hopeful that he would smile at her again. It was a dangerous feeling and one that she knew could lead to terrible things. Still, her feet seemed to move of their own accord, the hard, cold earth digging into the soles of her feet through her thin boots as she followed.

"Why haven't you told anyone about, Arden?" Mina asked. The question had been on the tip of her tongue since they'd started walking and she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I have my reasons." He said, with a shrug, glancing over his shoulder at her, his lips curved in a bemused smile.

"Enlighten me." He was frustrating her deliberately, she knew it and yet it still worked.

"You seem awfully worried about this, Arden." He noted.

"He is my friend and if you know what he is, then you, of all people, know what danger he is in." Mina spat it into the air with more urgency than she'd intended, and mentally chastised herself as Edward grinned again in satisfaction.

"He'll receive no trouble from me." Edward clarified, seating himself on a fallen tree, casually picking at the dry and splintered bark. Mina watched it fall, huffing in frustration.

"And why is that?"

"You're sure you wish to know."

"Yes." She narrowed her eyes when he grinned at her exasperated tone.

"You have such patience, my lady."

"And you have no manners."

"You wound me."

"You're stalling." She watched the smile drop from his face quickly, wondering momentarily if she had said something wrong. He turned his sad eyes to the ground and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yes, I am. Nothing gets past you does it?" His laughter held little humour, dimples not denting his cheeks, happiness not reaching his eyes. "What I…I have not told anyone of this and…" Mina moved to step forward, to comfort him but stopped herself quickly, reminding herself of the danger, reminding herself that it was in no way appropriate to be so forward with a man she knew so little about, a man who had made himself a sworn enemy of her people.

"My last campaign," he mumbled staring down at his hands, "the one in the highlands, it lasted for years."

"Years?" Mina asked in shock, wondering how such a thing could be possible when she had only heard of the Battle of Black Lake which had ended relatively quickly; the muggles admitting defeat and retreating as quickly as they had come.

"It took a long time to reach the Lake, where it all ended."

"And the ball?" Edward seemed amused by her question.

"A minor detour in a thoroughly planned out campaign." Mina frowned at him in confusion and he sighed, "The King requested my presence and I could not decline." Mina nodded in understanding even though she understood very little. She had never been able to fathom why one man held such power, especially a man that she felt had actually done very little to deserve it.

"The campaign...it was a... Mina, you must understand, people died; man, magic user, it did not matter, they all fell." Mina glanced away from him, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had heard the stories, tales of the lake filling with so much blood that the waters turned black.

"I nearly died there…" He got to his feet, as if unsure how to proceed, "I should have died, was dying. You...you don't know how different the world looks when you're dying. There is no victory and honour, there is just you and your body and the man bleeding next to you. Men and women speak of peace like it can be fought for, like that is what I have been doing and I should be rewarded for it, but there was no peace, no reconciliation, just death...death and blood and….' he choked over his words, rubbing his forehead fiercely, as if trying to rub away the memories.

"There was...there was a boy, I don't know how old. Couldn't have been that much younger than me. He...he healed me. At first," he took a deep breath, "at first, I thought he would kill me. I was waiting for it, was ready for it." Edward shook his head, scratching the back of his neck before he continued, "He looked so terrified but he did something, I don't know what, muttered something under his breath and then I wasn't dying. Do you know how...how strange that is?" he'd turned to her and Mina shook her head. Magic was apart of who she was, everything about it was familiar and right. She was shocked to find that she had never thought of such things from a muggle's perspective, wondering if she had been slightly guilty of all the things she'd accused him of at The Ball.

"What happened?"

"One of my men saw him, and...and they just..." Tears shimmered in Edwards' eyes, his gaze distant as if he were back on that battlefield reliving every painful memory. "I tried, I tried to save him, even asked him what he'd muttered to me, but none of it worked. He kept saying that he wanted to go home." Edward had stopped, tears finally slipping down his cheeks and glinting in the sun.

"I have…I have killed so many men that death meant little to me, it was just something that happened whether I brought it about or something else did. But…but he just wanted to go home, and I took that from him…"

"It was not your…"

"If he had not saved me, he would still be alive. I should be dead, but instead, I am here, paraded around like some sort of animal. Dressed up with medals and titles, told how brave and heroic I am, but they know nothing." He smiled at her gently over his shoulder, "You were the first person to challenge me and it…Mina it…you don't know what it has done for me." Mina flushed, stepping away from him a little, surprised at how good his words made her feel.

"I met you, and you told me all the things I knew about myself, all the things I despised about myself and for the first time, I wanted to change. I wanted to become someone you would be proud of, would look at with honour. When I thought I was dying I saw your face and I knew...I knew that would not have made you proud." Mina shifted unable to look at him.

He wiped his cheeks, turning fully to Mina and taking two steps towards her. "The boy he...he gave me another chance, another reason to..." He shook his head and reached out to her, brushing the pad of his thumb against her cheek, "I realised there are good and bad people regardless of which side they face each other from and the reason I have not told anyone about Arden is because..." he took a deep breath, smiling shakily down at her, "there's only one distinction that matters; the man that I was and the man that I choose to be and...and I guess I have chosen." His cheeks flushed as if the words embarrassed him to say.

"And what have you chosen?" Her words shook and she berated herself for allowing the effect he had on her to be so obvious.

"You have to ask?" His voice was a deep rumble, the tip of his nose brushing against hers and he leant forward.

"MINA," They both jumped at the sound of Sonyea's voice echoing through the quiet of the forest. Mina closed her eyes in frustration, snapping them open when Edward sighed contemplating her for a moment before stepping away, offering his arm with a slight bow.

"We should return you to your friend, my lady, I have taken up far too much of your time."

"I... I'm not sure when I will be able to meet you again," Mina said it before she could stop herself, the words rushing out of her in desperation. Could their time together be over so soon? She didn't want to contemplate the thought of it ending, of never seeing one another again.

"In a week, meet me here?" His warm hand covered hers and she could feel the roughness of his palm.

"Yes," she whispered, her whole-body filling with warmth when he smiled at her.

Hermione was staring into the grey eyes of Draco, whos face, for an instant, looked entirely different; happiness glimmered in his eyes, his usually stony features were softer and his lips curled up in a smile that made her wonder why he didn't do it more, he definitely looked better for it. Before she could contemplate the direction of her thoughts, the scowl was back and he was storming across the room, yanking the door open and exiting without a single word in her direction.

Hermione let him go, mulling over the memory as she made her way back to the Gryffindor tower. More research was needed, of that she was certain. Not knowing or understanding what was happening to them was infuriating her and, in spite of her previous somewhat pitiful research attempts, she was sure that putting in more time would at least unearth something. She smiled when she felt the pull of the Sensieve, magic tingling across her skin. It was as if Mina was still with her, making sure she didn't go too far. Hermione's heart broke at the thought of how long they had been waiting there, waiting in the memories for someone to unearth them. The sadness only made her more determined that a stupid blonde, Slytherin wasn't going to stop her from finding out the truth.


	9. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper

"You found out anything more about the egg, Harry?" Hermione leant across the table, her hair narrowly missing her breakfast. She'd honestly forgotten about the tournament her thoughts centred around Mina and Edward. She hadn't managed to corner Malfoy again who had taken to running away from her every chance he got.

"No…" Harry shook his head. He looked tired; dark shadows circling his eyes, his hair messier than normal. Hermione felt guilty. He'd had so much to contend with, and she just hadn't really been there for him.

"Cedric…Cedric mentioned something." He leant forward, glancing around to check if anyone was listening, "He said to have a bath, and to…to take the egg with me."

Hermione's nose scrunched in confusion, she couldn't imagine Cedric Diggory lying to Harry, but the clue did seem a little daft.

"You going to do it?" Ron asked, talking around a mouth full of beans.

"Well, of course, he's going to do it, what choice does he have?" She could tell by the way Ron cut his eyes at her that she'd said that far harsher than she'd intended.

"All right keep your hair on. I just thought maybe you'd find something, you know, in all your books." He gestured to the great pile next to her. Hermione glanced down at the full plate of food in front of her, her stomach clenching uncomfortably.

She'd been researching non-stop and none of it had been to help Harry. She could feel them judging her for the lack of input and it made her angry. She had done so much for them; completing their forgotten homework, keeping them somehow up to date with their lessons which they never failed to fall asleep in and dare she even mention the amount of effort she put into keeping them all alive when on one of their many adventures. Of course, she couldn't take all the credit and never would, but she couldn't help but feel a little bitter about the fact that they decided to make her feel bad when she wasn't doing all their work for them.

"I didn't know there was a battle here." Ginny's voice brought her out of her thoughts and Hermione watched as the ginger-haired girl placed a book back on top of the pile.

"Yes, quite a few." Hermione tried to smile at her through her annoyance. Apparently, there had been many battles at Hogwarts, enough to fill an entire book in fact, but none of them had ever been called the Battle of Black Lake. The fact that there was yet another moment in history that seemed to have been conveniently forgotten about made her want to tear her hair out in frustration.

"What are they for anyway?" Ron mumbled, pointing his fork at the pile. Hermione pressed her lips together, holding back her anger. It felt as if every word he spoke to her now was laced with some sort of accusation. Ever since the Yule Ball, he'd seemed poised, ready to climb down her throat when she betrayed them. She wasn't sure how she was meant to betray them, but she supposed that falling into a magical bowl with Malfoy would be misconstrued as such.

"They're for reading," she pointed out sarcastically and Ron scowled at her.

"I know that, but you know, what for?" He hunched his shoulders and leaned forward, tipping his head slightly to one side so he could read the spines. Hermione pulled them away, scowling at him.

"For studies, Ronald. I happen to have other interests, unlike some people." she looked at him pointedly, watching him sneer and sit back. She wondered, in moments like these, how she ever found him attractive, especially when he could be so nasty and suspicious.

"I thought you would at least be helping; the tournament is dangerous, and I don't see you raising a finger to help."

"Me? What about you? You're the one that has been moping around because of his missed opportunity at eternal glory." Hermione was shaking with anger.

"At least I'm not feeding information to the enemy. Bet you go wandering off to Krum whenever Harry tells you anything." Hermione's mouth opened and closed at the accusation. Harry said nothing staring down into his food uncomfortably. She knew that under any other circumstances he would have defended her, but he and Ron had only just started being civil to one another and she knew he didn't want to wreck that.

"Well if that's what you think..." she spat, getting up and collecting her stuff.

She stormed away from them, tears burning in her eyes. She loved the pair of them always would, even though sometimes they overlooked her. She was the smart one, the goody two shoes, the one that read books and told them what to do, anything more than that and suddenly they didn't know how to cope, looking at her as though she'd sprouted an extra head and started spreading, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named propaganda.

"Ooo look, it's Granger."

"GRANGER, wait, slow down." Hermione kept walking as she recognised the voice of Blaise Zabini. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone let alone Slytherins. Someone stepped in front of her stopping her in her tracks. Hermione looked up into the face of a grinning Theodore Knott.

"Aw look, the know-it-all is crying. What happened? You get banned from the library?"

"Nah, Krum probably dumped her ass," Pansy spat, stepping up next to Knott, her pretty face contorted into a scowl. Hermione knew she'd been one the girls fawning after Krum, she'd seen her being crushed in the gaggle that followed him around.

"Look, I am not in the mood for this, so please just leave me alone." Hermione closed her eyes in frustration, as they all laughed maniacally. She cursed herself for thinking that talking to them civilly could make a difference.

"Gryffindor Prissy Princess isn't in the mood, that's hilarious. Draco...Hey DRACO." Knott was calling over her head, and Hermione turned slowly to watch the blonde Slytherin, begrudgingly, make his way toward them.

"What is it, Knott? I've got better things to do than ignore, Granger." He sounded bored, but his eyes were darting around uncomfortably, trying not to meet her gaze.

Hermione sighed, tapping her foot against the floor and admiring the detail in the ceiling. She just had to let them have their fun and then she could leave. She smiled as she felt the familiar tingle of the Sensieve's magic, the warmth wrapping around her as Malfoy was brought closer by Blaise, who had thrown his arm across his shoulder, laughing heartily. For some reason, the magic of the Sensieve was always that much stronger around Malfoy.

"Where you been, Draco? We were beginning to worry about you."

"Nowhere," he muttered. Hermione could tell he was lying and wondered if he'd gone back to the stairwell. She sighed trying to move past them, but Pansy stepped in the way, her brown eyebrow arching.

"And where do you think you're going?" Hermione met her gaze.

"Seriously, haven't you guys got past all this yet?" Hermione asked in exasperation, rolling her eyes when Pansy mimicked her, looking straight down the bridge of her nose at Hermione like she was a piece of crap.

"How can we ever get past the fact that you're a little Mudblood, infecting our school with your filth?" Any other day, the comment would have made her roll her eyes, but now she felt sad, alone, and it stung.

"Pansy," Draco's voice cut through the air and Pansy looked up.

"What?"

"Come on, I can't be arsed with this." He gestured to Hermione in a bored manner, turning to walk away.

"But…" she spluttered before her shoulders slumped and she stepped past Hermione, knocking her shoulder.

"Watch it, Mudblood." she spat, before following Malfoy down the hall, Knott, and Blaise bringing up the rear.

Malfoy turned back once, his eyes meeting hers, flashing her a look of worry that only lasted a second. It was then that Hermione realised he'd actually helped her. In his very Malfoy way, he'd actually helped her. She felt herself warm slightly with gratitude, sadness slipping away just a bit.

* * *

Draco grit his teeth in frustration, yanking on the handle and cursing when once again the door refused to budge. He hadn't given much thought to sneaking out of the castle, but he'd never imagined that it would be this difficult. He'd heard some mutterings among the older students that there was a secret code to opening the doors late at night, but he'd never actually taken any of the rumours seriously, especially when the older students had the tendency for making up elaborate stories to make the younger students look like absolute idiots. He twisted the handle again and pulled, biting back a curse when it still didn't open. He leant his head against the wood, his thoughts betraying him and straying to Granger, the very thing he'd been actively trying not to think about all day.

She'd been crying, he could tell from the redness of her eyes and, for some reason, it had made him feel uncomfortable. He could remember a time when the Know-It-All crying would have actually brought him joy. It was the Sensieve, he knew it. Its magic had been lingering around him ever since he'd fallen into the cursed thing and for some reason around her it was…it was worse and at the same time a whole heck of a lot better. Whenever she was close it was as if he was wrapped in an indescribable warmth, tiny bursts of electricity sparking across his skin and making him shiver. There was a strange sort of comfort in it and embarrassingly he'd taken to following her around, always keeping a safe distance so as not to get caught. It had been working fine till Knott took it upon himself to foil his plans completely and announce his presence to the entirety of the school. Luckily it seemed as though no one had worked out what he'd been up to.

"What are you doing?" He whirled around quickly, pressing his back against the solid wood of the door, heart hammering in his chest. He felt the warmth growing as she stepped out of the shadows, her bushy hair bushier than ever, her head tipped to the side in confusion. Draco shivered as the sparks of magic erupted across his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before settling down to a steady hum that he felt inside and all around him. Hermione shifted from one foot to the other for a second and he wondered if she could feel it too.

"None of your business, Granger." He muttered, turning back to the door, hoping by Salazar that it would open so he wouldn't have to have any sort of extended interaction with her. He was noticing that Edwards emotions were entwining, overlapping with his, making them almost impossible to tell apart. Memories flashed through this mind that weren't his own and when he'd seen the sadness in Hermione's eyes she'd looked almost like Mina and his heart had ached just a little. He knew of course that Mina and Hermione were nothing alike, not even slightly, but there was something, like a small part of Mina hanging around her, wisps of it that clung on even after they had left the Sensieve.

"You know, it won't open that way," she said, moving forward to stand beside him, the proximity sending another wave of magic hurtling his way.

"Oh really? Stating the obvious much, Granger?"

"I was only trying to help, no need to be such a prat." He rolled his eyes but really, he was thoroughly relieved that she was back to being the annoying Granger that he was used to. That he could handle.

"Turn it to the left...no the other way." Hermione stepped right next to him, tutting as he did it wrong, "well now you're going to have to reset it...oh just let me do it," she spat, pushing his hands out of the way and moving to unlock the door. "See you turn it to the left, then to the right…' Draco wasn't listening, he squinted into the darkness of the corridor certain that he could hear a faint shuffle. His eyes widened, as light cast a shadow of a cat across the wall.

"Granger," he whispered furiously.

"I'm nearly done," she spat back.

"No, Granger…" He searched furiously for somewhere to hide, briefly contemplating leaving her to get caught. The idea wasn't completely ludicrous; she would be off his back at least for the rest of the night and Gryffindor would stand a chance of actually losing points for once. Still, he needed the door open and if there was a chance of getting answers then he'd just have to soak up the hex and admit defeat.

The tapestry that hung next to the doors to the grounds had always been somewhat of a talking point amongst him and his friends; it depicted Merlin offering magical aid to a young woman who had been cursed by a jealous witch. Every student knew the story and, every student knew that the way in which Merlin had been sewn meant that his wand stuck out in quite a compromising position. Now though, the tapestry made for the best hiding place that he could see in the dimness of the corridor and he quickly grabbed Hermione's wrist, yanking her behind it and clamping his hand over her mouth when she shrieked.

"What the…?"

"For once in your life, Granger, shut up," he whispered.

Hermione froze as the light passed in front of them, the pattern of the tapestry stitched in shadows across Malfoy's face. Filch was muttering away to Mrs Norris and Draco, not for the first time since he'd begun attending Hogwarts, wondered why the old squib took his job so seriously. Hogwarts it seemed had a way of taking care of itself, most students who'd ventured out after hours having found themselves victim to one of the various strange secrets that the castle held, so the presence of an utterly magicless caretaker seemed a little counter-intuitive.

The light fell away slowly and they both breathed a sigh of relief when his footsteps echoed into nothingness. Draco removed his hand from her mouth, grimacing and wiping it on his shirt. Hermione scowled at the action, hand on her hip as he checked that the coast was clear.

"You know, you could have just told me, instead of yanking me here and there," she whispered harshly, following him as he stepped out from behind the tapestry.

"Well, here's a bit of breaking news for you, Granger, I did try, but the sheer volume of your own know-it-allness must have drowned out the sound."

"Oh, real mature, Malfoy…for...you're doing it wrong. Seriously, we'll be here all night if you keep on like that." she pushed him aside, and Malfoy watched her turn the handle in a complicated pattern. She was right of course, she knew what she was doing, but he would never tell her that.

"It's a special locking system, it meant that muggles who were friends of the wizarding world could still come in and out. Of course, it's a very complex combination, so random people couldn't just stumble across the combination." Malfoy wondered how she'd actually managed to come across it but decided against asking, knowing that the explanation would be long and boring.

"You know, you don't seem to be…" his words died in his throat as the door clicked open and night air rushed to meet them. Draco stepped past Granger, who was admiring her work with pride. The night was still, the sky clear and full of moon, its silvery light making everything seem luminous, even the lake – usually an unfathomable blackness – seemed to glow with an ethereal light.

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed.

"Whatever, Granger." Draco brushed off her comment, trudging out into the night air.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"None of your business, Granger," he called over his shoulder, his steps not faltering.

Hermione followed him. "It is my business, I opened the door for you."

'No one asked you to, Granger." Hermione was jogging to keep up.

"You'd be stuck inside if it wasn't for me."

"You don't know that."

"I'm fairly certain that I do. Is this…this is to do with the Sensieve, isn't it?" Hermione grinned as she watched his shoulders tense. "What is it, what have you found?"

"Nothing…yet," he added the last part quietly, but she heard, quickening her pace. She thought back through the memories, wondering what he could have been looking for. Then she stopped, realisation rushing through her.

"The battle of black lake. Is this something to do with the battle?" He didn't stop but she heard him mumble something about her being a smart ass. She allowed herself a satisfied grin, following him to the edge of the lake, watching the water lap gently at the shore.

"What is it? What have you found?" She asked excitedly and he gave her a pained look, lazily pointing to a cluster of rocks further along the lake. It was a long walk and Hermione was suddenly very aware of the silence. She looked up at his face thinking that something about the moonlight softened his features, his pale skin seeming to glow. She shook her head quickly, looking down at her feet and clasping her hands in front of her as she tentatively attempted conversation.

"Thank you, by the way." Malfoy stopped walking altogether, looking down at her curiously.

"What?"

"I...er...I wanted to say thank you, you know for the other day." He lowered his head to hide his embarrassment, of course, she noticed, she noticed everything else.

"I don't know what you mean." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and carried on walking.

"You know, with Pansy and the others, calling them off."

"You make them sound like dogs, Granger," he snorted, "and I did not call them off, I just...I just couldn't be bothered okay." Hermione smiled slightly to herself. She could see how uncomfortable the conversation made him, which only made her more certain that helping her was exactly what he'd intended to do.

"Well thanks, anyway. It really helped."

"Look just forget about it, okay, Granger?" Hermione nodded slightly, biting back all the questions she wanted to ask him, and instead walked beside him in silence.

The rocks were inky black, the surface of them shiny. Hermione reached out a hand to touch, thinking that they looked more like glass than anything else.

"What type of rock is this?" She mused, picking up a smaller one and examining it in her hands.

"It's a rock Granger," Draco scoffed climbing on the large pile and slowly making his way to the top. She chuckled to herself when Draco – not being the most graceful of people – flailed about comically, looking for purchase on the slippery surface.

"Laugh it up, why don't you stop standing about and get up here and help?"

Hermione scoffed indignantly, "I'm sorry, but you didn't even want me here."

"Yeah well, you are, so just make yourself useful." Hermione sighed, rolling up the sleeves of her jumper and climbing up the rocks towards him. She could hear the water lapping between the stones, the sound calming in the night air.

"Hurry up." Draco's snotty voice ruined the moment and Hermione grit her teeth, increasing her pace till she was next to him stood atop the rock and looking out over the lake. The view was impressive, and both found themselves stilled for a moment by the sight.

"So, what are we looking for?" Hermione asked, watching him kneel down and begin moving rocks aside, tapping her foot in annoyance when he refused to answer her. "Well?"

"Granger, I am about this close," he held up his fingers barely a millimetre apart, "to chucking you in the lake. Will you be quiet and at least make yourself useful?" Hermione bristled, planting her hands on her hips.

"I would be entirely more useful if you even hinted as to what you were looking for." Draco stopped digging about in the stones, leaning back and glaring up at her.

"The boy that saved Edward at the Battle, you know about him?" Hermione nodded eagerly, hardly able to believe that Draco was divulging information, especially about the Sensieve. "Well, his stuff his hidden around here somewhere."

"What? Stuff?"

"Yes, Granger, stuff, around here, somewhere." He gestured to the rocks and continued digging.

Hermione immediately knelt down beside him and began pouring all her energy into digging out small rocks and throwing them into the lake, instead of asking him all the questions that were circling around in her head. Any questions she would ask him would be met with the same infuriating vagueness so there was no point.

They both paused when the tip of a wand poked through the gap in the rocks.

"Is that a…?" Draco nodded, gently digging out the smaller rocks surrounding it and gently pulling it out of its hiding place. The wand was black, intricately carved, a dragon breathing fire across its surface. He could feel the magic emanating from it, it was more powerful than anything he'd felt before.

"Cast a spell," Hermione muttered excitedly, her eyes wide. Draco glanced at her uncertainly, holding the wand in front of him.

"Lumos," He muttered, and the end of the wand began to glow, getting brighter and brighter before it suddenly faded, leaving colourful spots on his vision. The feeling he got from casting the spell was unlike like any he had felt before, worryingly the connection he felt with the strange wand was so much stronger than the connection he had with his own.

"That was amazing," Hermione said, reaching out and taking the wand from him as he carried out searching the hole that they'd made.

"Lumos." Hermione all but whined when nothing happened, the wand refusing to light. "Lumos…I don't understand."

"Maybe you're not doing it right," Draco teased, smirking to himself when Hermione let out a strangled cry of indignation.

"I'm doing it right," Hermione countered with certainty, examining the wand in confusion.

"Give it here." Hermione reluctantly handed the wand over to Draco, ignoring the fact that easily cast Lumos again, the light shining brightly and instantly fading.

"It isn't lasting very long." Draco murmured, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Hermione shrugged, "Perhaps you're doing it wrong."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

"It is act…" Hermione paused, noticing something glinting amongst the rocks. She easily eased the object out of the dirt and held it in her fingers. It was a ring, an M of black crystal in the centre and words carved around the edge.

"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper," Hermione mumbled to herself, turning the ring this way and that in her hands, it was large, so large it wouldn't fit on any one of her fingers including her thumb.

"What did you say?" Malfoy asked, his eyes wide.

"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. It's on here, do you know what it means?" Draco took the ring from her, gazing at it in wonder.

"It means, Purity will always conquer." Hermione watched as he stared at the ring for an age, his mouth opening and closing shock.

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked growing impatient.

"It's…." He held the ring up to Hermione, pointing at the M, "It's my family crest."


	10. Feeling of Magic

"He was a Malfoy?" Hermione whispered, leaning forward to inspect the ring in Malfoy's hand. He ran his finger along the smooth surface, falling back to sit on the rocks as the past rushed to meet him.

Hermione reached back into the hole tugging out a piece of cloth; it looked aged and weathered, the red of it almost completely faded. She gently held it up and squinted, just about making out the outline of a lion.

"This must have been what they were wrapped in," she muttered, glancing up and noticing that Malfoy still hadn't moved. Leaning forward she gently placed her hand over his, jerking back when he jumped, grey eyes meeting hers. Without a word he heaved himself to his feet, climbing down the rocks quickly.

"Wait...where are you going?"

"I'm going to bed, Granger, it's late." He stated, not bothering to turn around.

"What? So that's it? You find an ancient family heirloom, and you're just going to bed?" Hermione screeched, gently folding the delicate material and clamouring down the rocks after him.

"Yes, Granger, that's exactly it. Plus, I don't even know if what I found was a family heirloom." He shrugged, trying to pretend that none of it bothered him; not the magic, not the memories, not mudblood Granger. But he knew it was pointless, everything was bothering him recently, all because of her and her incessant need to be so, so Gryffindor.

"But the memories." Hermione was rushing after him again, the wind blowing her hair in front of her face. With a huff, she shoved it to the side.

Draco stopped, turning to look at her, "The memories of a muggle are hardly reliable." Hermione scoffed, she didn't believe him, no matter how stoic he remained, she knew it bothered him, she knew he was scared, and she wanted to know why.

"Memories are memories, Malfoy, regardless of who has them." She crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah well, they can keep them."

"But don't you think this all seems just a bit convenient like we are being sent a message?" Hermione pondered, following him as Draco began to storm back towards the castle.

"Oh please, Granger, even you can't be that pathetic."

"No, I just…" Hermione stared down at her feet, slightly hurt that he'd called her pathetic, uncertain why it bothered her so much. "There has to be a reason, you know as well as I do, that magic isn't chance. I mean, why else would the wand only work for you?" Draco paused as she said this, glancing down at the wand in his hand. The joke of Hermione Granger casting a spell wrong only went so far, but he desperately wanted to cling onto it.

"You were probably doing it…"

"Oh, grow up, Malfoy. There might be something important here, for both of us, and what? You're just going to walk away because...because of some silly family prejudices?" Draco's eyes became stormy at the mention of his family and Hermione gulped.

"Who are you to talk about my family, mudblood?" Hermione recoiled, the word cutting her deeper than it ever had before. Draco noticed the way she flinched and hated the fact that it made him feel a little guilty.

"I don't know why I bothered helping you?" she said it through gritted teeth, stomping around him.

"Helping me? When have you _ever helped_ me? You're the one that started this whole thing. It was because of you that we ended up in that infernal bowl in the first place." Hermione stopped, twirling round to meet him, her chest nearly meeting Malfoy's as he stumbled to a standstill.

"Why are you so angry? So, what? You found out that not all of your family are deranged muggle haters, perhaps you should be counting your blessings, there might be hope for you yet."

"I told you not to speak about my family. You have no right." every word was laced with malice as his face moved closer to hers.

"And what are you going to do, get your father to give me a good telling off?"

"Why you little…"

"Little what?" she spat, cutting him off, "Little Mudblood? That's getting old don't you think?" She feigned calm, but inside her heart was beating a mile a minute; he was so close and so full of hate, magic was crackling against her skin like tiny fireworks, and her own hate coiled in her gut uncomfortably.

"Doesn't stop it from being true, does it, Granger?"

"What in Merlin's name is your problem?" she scowled, turning her back to the lake and all the hate shimmering in his grey eyes. She needed space to breathe, to think, to get past all the magic and Malfoy. It was suffocating, and confusing. Like trying to glance through a fog to find answers that in her heart she knew weren't there. She couldn't even remember why they'd started arguing. Why did they ever start arguing?

"You're my problem, Granger, sticking your haughty little nose where it doesn't belong, dragging me along on your little 'adventures'." Hermione scowled, increasing her pace, wanting to scream in frustration when he matched it so that she could hear every word. "You just had to find out more about two dead people, had to jump into a bowl and put me through Merlin knows what, just to get answers."

"So, we're just going to ignore the fact that you were sneaking out late at night to find a dead mans belongings, works both ways you know." Hermione winced as he grabbed her arm, yanking her round to look at him, the wind blew his hair out of place again and for a moment the gentle sway of it hypnotised her.

"Do not put me on par with your filth." Hermione yanked her arm away.

"Let go of me," she huffed, and Draco gripped her harder.

"You don't control me, Mudblood. Nothing does; not you, not that stupid bowl."

"Why are you so afraid of it? It can't hurt you."

"IT ALREADY HAS." He shouted it right in her face, and Hermione saw the fear and pain flashing unchecked through his eyes, then he seemed to stop, releasing his grip and stepping back, his hand clamping over his mouth in shock.

"What...what happened?" Hermione muttered, remembering the first time she'd fallen into the Sensieve, the fire, the pain, the fact that she had felt death reaching for her. She'd almost forgotten it all but looking at Draco brought it all rushing back.

"What do you care?"

"Oh please." Hermione rolled her eyes and made a move to walk away.

"Wait." He grasped her arm, gulping heavily and refusing to meet her questioning gaze. "They tortured him...Edward." He finally looked up at her, "It felt, it felt like a thousand knives all just…I couldn't do anything. When I'm him, there's no magic, I can't feel it."

Hermione hadn't even considered the absence of magic. When she was in Mina's memories, she could feel her magic as though it were her own, to imagine something so important no longer being there was unfathomable. Hesitantly, she reached forward, her hand resting on the top of his arm gently. Draco flinched meeting her gaze, an indecipherable expression crossed his features, but he didn't move. The magic of the Sensieve hummed between them, the air around them growing warm, Hermione shivered as sparks danced along her skin, travelling or down her spine. The feeling intensified, till Draco pulled back, ripping himself away from her as if he'd been burnt.

"Don't touch me."

"You feel it too, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Granger." But she could hear the lie in his voice, he felt it just as much as she did, he felt the way it got stronger when they were close, how it felt right.

Draco was opening the door, and Hermione rushed in after him, bumping into his back when he stopped suddenly.

"What the…?" Hermione glanced around, eyes widening as she realised, they hadn't stepped into the corridor but instead stepped into the room with the green pillars. Candles were lighting themselves, the walls were coming to life. Draco shook his head, turning back to the door they'd come through, only to find it wasn't there anymore.

"How is this even possible?" Hermione, whispered, spinning around slowly, her mouth wide open. There was a grating sound as the Sensieve rose out of the floor, floating in front of them. Hermione turned to Draco, just in time to see him gulp heavily before it dragged them both into its depths.


	11. Tharin Morax

It was dark and grimy, small balls of flame, hanging in cages flickering their light pitifully in the gloom. Edward could make out the familiar shimmer of red, as the light caught fresh blood splattered across the walls. Screams and cries called out to him from the shadows intermittently, and his hands balled into fists to stop them shaking. Draco could feel Edward's heart hammering, feel the sweat beading on his brow, the breath leaving his lungs as images flashed through his mind quickly. His legs shook and almost gave way, but the splash of a drop of water on his forehead seemed to pull him out of his mind and back into the moment. He quickly wiped his head, gazing up at the damp roof, where water leaked through from above. He focused on the drips they made as they fell, breathing deep calming breaths. He could not show weakness, especially here.

During his campaign in the highlands, there had been much talk of a new name among the witch hunters, famed as they were among the people. Edward had paid little attention to them, seeing them butchers rather than actual soldiers. His return at the King's request, however, had shown that the King saw these men as so much more, valuing their input on the matter of magic users. That meeting had proven worryingly final; the witches and wizards were to be eradicated and he was to pick the best man to do it. The best man, according to his previous bloody works, was Tharin Morax. The name had not struck any particular fear within him when he'd heard it but, as time went on, word of his actions had spread the country until it was impossible to ignore the man behind such carnage. Now when people spoke his name it was with the same fear and reverence afforded the grim reaper.

Edward focused on putting one foot in front of the other, breathing through his mouth as the stench of decomposition, excrement and blood grew thicker in the air with each step he took. Draco was almost certain that if he wasn't in the memory he would have passed out from sensory overload, almost certain that it was impossible for something to smell so bad and not actually be a physical presence.

Edward paused when he came to a low stone arch, glancing through into the dimness of the tunnel and gulping. He had never been particularly afraid of anything, such fearlessness always making him a formidable opponent, even against those that were significantly more experienced than himself, but something about the tunnel filled him with dread. For the first time in his life he felt the distinct urge to flee, to turn back the way he had come and never set eyes on the man that had become so famed, even to the King. He shook his head, gripping the hilts of his daggers that were resting against his hips. The feel of them in his palm calmed him, grounding him to the floor and to the knowledge that no matter what he faced he could always kill it. With a nod of reassurance, he stepped under the arch, ducking slightly so as not to hit his head.

In the gloom, he could make out small cages that lined the wall on either side of the tunnel, the bars thick and rusted. The inhabitants of the small confines stared up at him with wide haunted eyes, their bodies a map of pain and torture that challenged anything he had seen on the battlefield. The further down the corridor he went, the less they looked like people, reduced to open wounds and scars stretched thinly over bone. They reached out to him half-heartedly, fingers grasping at his clothes barely able to grip. He turned as one yanked at his trousers, her hair hanging limply over her face in greasy clumps, dyed red with old blood. Her legs were covered with excrement and sores, and when she looked up at him to speak, her mouth held no teeth. She dribbled helplessly, mouthing breathy words that Edward couldn't hear. The sight made his heartache in his chest, fighting the need to reach out and unlock the cage, let her free, or end the torture.

"Edward, Edward, Edward." The voice was clipped and proper, greeting him familiarly as if greeting an old friend. Edward turned, noting how small and wiry he seemed, his vibrant dress the only thing that seemed remotely strong or bold about him. He grinned broadly but the action did not meet his eyes leaving them somewhat cold, like flecks of ice in the darkness. "So glad that you could make it." His arms were spread out before him as if to embrace Edward but dropped at the last moment. Disgust burnt in the back of Edward's throat like bile as well as general annoyance at the man's complete disregard for his title. He swallowed heavily, pushing them down and taking pains to remain as expressionless as possible.

He nodded his head slightly, offering the small man a tight smile in return, "Lord Morax, I have been sent on behalf of His Majesty. He wishes to," he glanced around at the pitiful remains of human that Tharin had locked away, "enquire as to your work and offer mine and my men's services, if we may," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "be of any use."

"Ah yes, well I'm afraid you've caught me at a difficult time." Edward glanced wearily over Tharin's shoulder, at the two guards either side of him. One sneered at him, making Edward raise an eyebrow, vaguely recognising the scar that ran the length of his face. Tharin noticed, grinning widely. "Oh, forgive me, how rude. Standing here all proper while there is a reunion in progress. You remember Aygust. His Royal Highness believed his particular skills would be better suited with me. I'm sure you two will get along famously." He clapped his hands together and let out a delighted laugh that sounded to Edward almost manic.

Edward cringed glancing once again at Aygust; the young man had grown quite significantly since he'd last seen him, filling out obscenely. He guessed, however, considering his reinstatement to torturer, that his fighting had not improved much, his size doing little to encourage speed and agility which he had always lacked. Edward and he had been trained together, both having the same childish dreams of being warriors, determined that they would not be called to the slaughter as so many men were. As with any group of boys, there was a hierarchy and Aygust had found himself at the bottom time and time again. The scar that Aygust wore was put there by Edwards own hand, a cruelty that he wished he could take back.

"Aygust," Edward muttered, nodding his head again, hands gripping the hilt of his daggers harder.

"Edward," The man hissed back, his voice gruff, eyes squinting in hate.

"That's Commander James to you," Tharin patronised, all but giggling in delight when Aygust growled, "We must not forget our manners. Even if we are in the company of old friends." He rubbed his hands together, "Well enough with the niceties, perhaps you can help me, Edward, I'm in a spot of bother, as it were." He gestured for Edward to follow him, walking jauntily down the tunnel as though there weren't suffering people either side of him.

Edward paused when Tharin disappeared behind a black door, metal studs protruding from its surface. He thought of Mina, wishing with every fibre of his being he was back walking with her. They had met frequently, their conversations never ceasing to stray to her wonderful, flawless view of the world. She had such childish dreams and impression, but he could not take them from her, loving them for their beauty and loving her for nurturing to the extent that they seemed almost possible. Shut away as he was though, their beauty seemed just a figment of his imagination, imagined in one of weaker moments.

Tharin quickly stuck his head around the door, glancing confusedly at Edward, noticing his wide-eyed stare.

"Oh, this was here when we arrived," he gestured to the iron studs, "ghoulish don't you think. Not at all what I had in mind." Tharin tutted, before shrugging his shoulders casually, "Still, beggars cannot be choosers and we have been so very lucky to be allowed such space. Most places we have visited have forced us into such small abodes. I am a man of my work however and squalor does not put me off, only serves to increase my resilience." He held the door open for Edward, his stare almost too much to bear as the warrior walked into the room.

He managed to school his features as he gazed up at the ceiling. Hooks hung down, their sharp ends still caked in blood and strings of skin. Instruments crowded every available surface of the darkroom, devices that Draco had never seen before and did not want to guess what they were used for. Edward gritted his teeth as his eyes landed on the small child that was stretched across a stone table, burns marring his skin and his small head lolling to one side as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Each breath seemed like agony, his chest rising and falling with pitiful wheeze after pitiful wheeze.

"Fantastic utilisation of space, if I do say so myself." Tharin murmured, eyes glinting in amusement as he stood watching Edward, his hands planted firmly on his hips. Edward did not in any way wish to agree with the enthusiasm of the man before him, but he had to admit he had never seen so many instruments of death packed into such a small space. It was all so unreal and strange that he found his head spinning a little; taking a deep breath through his mouth so as to limit the stench, he managed to ground himself.

"A far cry from the battlefield, my Lord." Tharin tipped his head to the side at Edwards words.

"Hmm, the argument of the warrior, such righteous work you do slicing a man open and leading him to bleed in the dirt. Blood is blood, is blood, wouldn't you say, Aygust?"

"Yes, my lord," the man answered gruffly.

"Flailing about a battlefield is so terribly tiresome. My talents are so much more deliberate, particular, you might say, in nature."

"Particularly one-sided wouldn't you say? When a man meets me in combat, he has a chance at life." Tharin tipped his head back and practically cackled.

"How quaint, and how utterly childish. Did your lady teach you such foolish notions?" Edwards' eyes widened in panic, the grip on his daggers tightening as Tharin walked towards the table, gazing at the boy before turning to Edward. "Put a sword in his hand," he pointed down at the child, "and he would die either way." He sauntered over to one of his many tables and picked up what looked like a bent piece of wood. Draco started a little when he realised it was a very crudely made wand, misshapen with knots as though it had simply been plucked from a tree and wielded.

"Give him this, well he might just kill you where you stand before you have so much as taken a breath." He dropped it onto the table and shook his head almost sadly. "What you and I do, Commander," he spoke the title as if speaking to a child and Edward found that infuriated him more than the man's disregard for its use, "is practically the same. But I – I am measured, every action has a purpose a reason." A stove burnt white-hot embers in the corner and Tharin made his way over to it, taking a large leather cloth in hand and pulling an iron rod out of it.

"Every cut, every burn," he emphasised his words by pressing the glowing end onto the child's skin, the hiss turning Edward's stomach. The child groaned, back arching off the table, before falling back with a thump, eyes rolling back in his head as he once again passed out. "Every bit of pain has a purpose. I can take man, woman, child, to the very edges of their fear and back, and when they return, they tell me everything. You just have to find the right…" he tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment, before pressing the rod back into the child's flesh, just below his ribs, "angle."

Edward took a step a step forward, his blades halfway unsheathed. It would spell certain death for him to end the life a man that had full sanction of the King, but surely the king could not know such atrocities were taking place in his name. Tharin looked almost amused, waving his hand at his guards to keep them back by the door. Aygust seemed desperately uncomfortable, his thick fingers turning white as he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. The man had to know that in such close quarters the smaller man would win, there was no space for a brute his size to move about; both their throats would be cute before they had time to draw their swords. The brightly dressed man made his way to the stove, pushing the iron rod back into the coals.

"I really wouldn't do anything you could possibly regret, Commander. It has already come to the attention of the King that your leanings have somehow changed as of late."

"I do not know what you mean." He ground out, knowing that it would all be over soon. He would kill them all and be far away before anyone knew the difference.

"Of course, you do. Sympathies to witches and wizards do not easily pass my notice, no matter how subtle."

"I am not sure what sympathies you speak of, I have only ever done my duty, for my king." Tharin nodded, picking up a small blade from the table and inspecting it closely.

"And yet you threaten me, why is that?"

"It's just a child." He choked on the words, swallowing his emotions in embarrassment. The boy's eyes had opened, his lips trembling, mouth opening and closing as if struggling to find oxygen. It was as if the boy that had saved him at the Battle of Black lake were laying across the table, fear in his eyes and the want to go home.

"This is no child, Edward, this is a demon, a devil in disguise. Do not be fooled by the supposed innocence. You should know as well as anyone what these things are capable of."

It was true that he had seen some terrible things during the battle, such powerful forces wielded with such ease, but he had also seen the terror in the boy's eyes as he realised, he would never see his family again, that death was coming for him and there was nothing that could be done.

"I-I…"

"You have a choice, Commander. You can kill me and my friends quite easily, of that, I have no doubt. Or you can show your allegiance to your King and to me by killing this demon." The imbalance in the options confused him, and then he realised, with sickening clarity, that he'd walked into a trap, a very neatly planned and executed trap.

"And if I kill you? You know that I can." Tharin shrugged, his ice-cold gaze settling on Edward sending a chill all the way down to his soul.

"Of course, you could, a seasoned warrior like yourself, against me?" He laughed heartily, "I know my limitations, Commander. But as I said, I do take pains to find the necessary angle and yours was so…obvious." Edward didn't dare breathe, he had been a fool of that he was certain. "She really is beautiful you know, living with the Masarvas family, the only remaining heir, what is his name now…Lord Arden Masarvas is it? Such a woman of the people too, taking part in the market, selling her wares at such shamefully low prices," Tharin tutted, "you really do have an eye for them."

The fight seemed to leave him at these words. He had been out-manoeuvred and out-witted before he had even realised, he was taking part in some sort of elaborate game.

"You threaten her life?"

"Oh, there is no threat, none at all. As long as you do all that I ask. It's that simple."

"How can I trust your word?"

"A man is only as good as his word, Commander. Not a hair on her golden head will ever be touched so long as you work for me, of that you can be certain."

He re-sheathed his daggers slowly, nodding his head reluctantly. He did not trust himself to speak, knowing that whatever he said would betray him. He could never swear fealty to a man that thought nothing of harming a child in such a way.

"Excellent choice, Commander. You will find our work paramount to the survival of our kind. Without men like me, we would be as dirt beneath their shoes, squashed into the earth like nothing. That is how they see us, as weak and powerless, nothing more than beasts. But we will show them." Tharin strode around the table and placed his arm over Edwards' shoulders, finding it a little difficult due to their difference in size. "You will come to see things my way, everyone does." He handed him the small hooked blade, his eyes glinting. "Do the honours, Commander?"

Edward stood for some time unable to move, certain that it was all some strange dream and he would awaken in his own bed coated in sweat. Numbly he took the blade in his hands, trying and failing to grasp at a plan. Surely it would take a long time before anyone would notice that Tharin had died, surely, he could get to Mina before them. But…what if he didn't? The risk was too much, she has fast become the most important thing in his existence and life without her was too much. He stumbled forward, his legs seeming not to belong to him as he made his way closer to the table. The boys head lolled to one side, eyes half-lidded as he gazed up at the Commander. There was no fear in them, only faint resignation.

He choked past a sob that made its way into his throat as he lifted the blade to the boy's neck. The world was so quiet, only the wheeze as the child took in painful breath after painful breath met his ears and, in that quiet, he thought of Mina. She was beautiful and she was smiling at him, arms help open in the acceptance he so desperately craved from her. She would never know this world and he would keep her safe from it. The blade bit into the child's neck and warm blood covered his hands, dripping off the table onto his boots and running through the gaps in the cobbled floor. It would be over; the pain would be over. There was a choking sound, like a small cough petering out into a gurgle that made him grit his teeth and pushed harder. He let out a final sigh and his chest rose and fell no more, blood continued to patter on the floor, the scent of it filling the air with a sickening tang.

Edward ripped himself away from the body, the tiny blade clattering to the floor as he sucked in several shuddering breaths, realising that his cheeks were soaked with tears. He could hear Tharin clapping behind him, excited chatter that congratulated him on a job well done. He stared at the table feeling as though another man had climbed into his skin and killed the child, another person had gripped the blade. He thought of Mina, of all that he had wanted to be for her and realised that it had been such a foolish fantasy. Beside the boy lay the shadow of the good man that he had attempted to be, his life ended with the boys; over before he even had time to grow, to even begin to be.

Draco fell to his knees, retching when the world came rushing back, the final vestiges of the memory clinging on with visceral clarity. When he had finished throwing up, he lifted his hands staring at the pale of his skin as they shook.

"Malfoy?" He felt her hand gently rest against his shoulder and all he wanted was to tilt his head and press his cheek against the warmth of it. The magic around them grew and the familiarity of its presence settled his stomach and stopped the shaking. With great difficulty, he got to his feet meeting her brown eyes, his heart hammering in his chest when he realised that she was worried about him.

"Malfoy, what happened?" Her voice sounded far away, dark spots flickering on his vision making everything seem blurry.

"I think I'm going to throw up…" He was falling and he vaguely heard Hermione shouting his name before the world faded into blackness.


	12. Arden Masarvas

The room was large and round, rich wooden panelling decorating the thick stone of the walls. Mina had always thought it a very stuffy room, the council always holding their most important meetings there, trawling through the dreariest of subjects in the dreariest of settings. Someone had hung bright yellow curtains in a desperate attempt to add a bit of colour and life to the room, but the thickness of the fabric on dampened acoustics making every sound drop out of existence as soon as it was said.

Mina stood at the back with Sonyea, their backs pressed against the wall, gazing over the sea of witches and wizards who were whispering suspiciously among themselves. There hadn't been much in the way of explanation when word had reached them of an important gathering, and she guessed that such cloak and dagger would have, no doubt, offended quite a few witches and wizards who prided themselves on being in the know. She could see their furrowed brows as the frustratedly asked those around them what they knew, relaxing somewhat at not being alone, before voicing their indignation at being summoned like commoners.

Demalden Ogen stood, his customary emerald green robes vibrant against the drabness of the room and the brown robes of the individuals that sat either side of him. He was a tall, his skin dark, a large pointed hat always sitting slightly crookedly on his head, planets spinning across its surface in the most hypnotising fashion. He had come from far across the sea, quickly proving himself to be an incredibly powerful wizard and apt leader, being both strong-willed and fair in all his decisions. When he had been appointed as spokesperson for the magical council, no one had doubted, even Arden had looked up to the man with awe. Now though she noticed that his opinions had somehow been darkened with disdain, questioning every decision that he and the magical council made.

"Quiet!" The mumbling instantly stopped, and all spectators turned their heads to the front, their gaze's expectant. Mina pulled her shawl tighter across her shoulders, the material was soft in her fingers. Nervously she traced the pattern of blue flowers across its surface. Of late these meetings had spelt nothing but bad news; updates being only of those that had been lost, missing or otherwise murdered by the muggles. Most had been innocents, young children that had wandered too far away from their homes and being caught casting a spell. Every name that was spoken, every horrendous act that was described made her think of Edward and her guilt grew as she was forced to face her feelings for the man that had once aligned himself with such villains.

"My friends," Mina noticed how tired Demalden seemed as he spoke, his words laden with sadness, "we live in dark times." Mutters of agreement rippled through the crowd and Sonyea leaned towards Mina.

"Stating the obvious don't you think?" Mina nodded, flashing her friend a tight smile.

"The Council, as appointed by the magical community, have met to discuss our, precarious predicament and we have," he took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead before continuing, "we have come to a difficult decision."

Many witches and wizards shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, muttering nervously to their neighbours. "The Battle of Black Lake has dealt our way of life a substantial blow and, in spite of our victory the war has not ended. Even as I speak plans have been set in motion to eradicate our way of life and eradicate us." Gasps of shock came from all around the hall, people reached for one another to find comfort, hands grasping robes.

"We nine have agonised over how we, and the people we represent, should proceed and we see no other option but to do this as peacefully as we can. The Battle at Black Lake caused serious bloodshed and we lost so many good witches and wizards to needless violence. We cannot go on as such, we will not allow it. Muggles have announced their stance, separate from our way of life and we shall not hinder them on such a path, separating ourselves from theirs." Mina felt Sonyea grip her arm, looking up and seeing her eyes wide with horror. Mina followed her gaze and felt her stomach knot with worry.

Arden had stepped into the room, black robes wrapped around him, a gold symbol blazoned on his back in bright gold. It shone as he walked quickly through the crowds of people who, becoming aware of his presence, began, once again, to whisper to one another, till the whole room abuzz with their speculations. Seven figures filtered in behind him, their robes matching, hoods pulled up to cover their faces. Mina thought she recognised some of them, young wizards that had returned from the Black Lake who Arden had surrounded himself with, desperate to feel like a hero even though he had not fought beside them. It was obvious that whatever path Arden was determined to walk down would be neither peaceful nor free of bloodshed.

"The council believes," Demalden continued speaking over the din, "that we should forge a new life hidden from the muggles. This is not new, many have done it in other places across the world and there are magical creatures that have lived this way for centuries. We believe it is time that we join them."

"And what, Demalden, of our right to freedom?' Arden had his wand pressed against his throat, amplifying his voice, so it filled up the stuffy room and drowned out all other sounds. Mina almost didn't recognise the ton; he was so calm, so sure of himself, very different from the nervous wreck of a boy that she had grown up with.

"Lord Arden Masarvas," Demalden eyed him curiously, gesturing for the young wizard to step forward.

"You forget your manners when addressing the council." A blonde-haired witch with rosy cheeks, spoke sharply, the tip of her pointy black hat moving in the air.

"I forget nothing, Lady Greengrass, I only wish to remind the council members, that each witch and wizard present here today has the right to make their own choices. They should be able to choose whether they wish to cower away from the world, or whether they wish to make a stand and fight for their way of life." People were listening to him, she could see them straining in their seats to look at him, whispers of affirmation reached her ears. As the seven gathered around Arden, Mina gripped Sonyea's arm in dread. Hermione could sense the worry, there was a palpable tension in the air.

"And might we remind you, Arden, that the people appointed _us_ to make the important decisions for them." The man who spoke slowly stood; he was tall, standing only a little shorter than Demalden, his features sharp and pointed.

"An excellent point, but surely something so drastic as this should be given to the people. Let them decide which path they want to take." There were several shouts of agreement from the crowd, and Demalden noted them all with a cautious expression, stepping back, drawing himself up to his full height.

"This a grave decision to make. If given such a power, what would you decide?" He asked it slowly, reaching into his robes. Mina moved forward, instantly cut off by other witches and wizards rising from their seats in order to see the drama unfold. None had ever seen fit to take a stand against Demalden and even if they had they would never have dared to, he was a powerful wizard and only a fool would pit themselves against him.

Arden, seemingly unperturbed by the powerful council members before him, turned his back on them, raising his arms high, "I would say that we fight, I would say that we take what is ours, what magic has given us, and we drive the muggles out like they have driven us out of our homes." Those that agreed, agreed violently, their cries louder than any of those that opposed his words, their wands raised in the air. Mina swallowed the fear in her throat, trying to push forward again, stopped by Sonyea, the tips of her fingers digging into her arm as she shook her head. Her friend's face was deathly pale as if she sensed that something terrible was about to happen.

"So, we fight, Arden, and what if we die?" Those that had vehemently agreed with Arden seemed to sober at these words, stilling and turning their expectant gazes towards the young wizards.

'We will not die." He said it so simply as it were a truth that had been written in the stars for centuries. "Do we not have magic? Isn't the very essence of the world coursing through our veins? Do we not live as one with all the creatures of the earth, even those in secret? Why should we hide? Why should we run? They should cower before us."

"Not everything needs to be taken with blood, we could all happily exist side by side." Demalden tried to interject, struggling to be heard over the clamouring protests.

"And wait for them to find us? Wait for them to kill us? You would protect those that would seek to find and destroy our kind? You would grant them possession of the world and leave us in shadow?" He turned back to the man, and a realisation seemed to flicker across the council members features, each of them slowly reaching into their robes. Mina felt the shift too, reaching for her own wand.

Arden had divided the crowd, that much was obvious, great arguments breaking out within the room. Withes and wizards that had known one another all their lives shouting at one another, red-faced and angry, accusing fingers pointed as if the person before them was the very reason for the turmoil that had befallen their people.

"The council want what is best for our people." Demalden's wand was gripped in his hand, and Arden simply turned to the crowd.

Mina could not hear Arden's reply over the noise, but she saw that many of the council members had stepped in, their faces twisted in anger as they spoke to her friend. There would have been a time when she would have been proud of him for such achievements, would have look on happily as he stood for something and took the lead. But now all she saw was the shadow of hate that had made its way back from Black Lake infecting her friend and turning him into someone she no longer recognised. The room was not behind him, but nor were they against him; he had simply wandered in and planted a seed of doubt, basking in the chaos as though he had designed it that way. He could not hope to lead anyone to victory under such conditions, but she knew he didn't see it like that. There was smugness on his face, a cockiness in the way that he strutted before the council.

"Mina this cannot be, Arden he…" Sonyea shook her head in disbelief, grasping at Mina's shawl and tugging it off her shoulders slightly.

"I know."

"What is he talking about, he's never fought a battle in his life." Sonyea attempted a nervous chuckle, the amusement dying on her face quickly as she watched Arden spit something back at the council before he once again got lost in the surge of the crowd. A hex flashed across the room and sent a witch flying against the far wall. There was no indication of who had sent off the missile, but Mina watched the effects of it bloom across a woman's face in angry boils as her husband stooped over her quickly muttering a counter-spell.

It was not unheard of for petty arguments to break out among their kind and for curses and hexes to be thrown, but Mina felt as though the badly aimed hex was just the beginning and worse things were to come.

It was as if the universe had heard her thoughts and decided upon action, as within a few seconds the room seemed to melt into mayhem, spells flying across the room freely, crashing into witches and wizards alike, missing people completely and smashing into the walks, leaving burning little craters in the wood. The mayhem seemed to fade however as Mina's eyes were drawn to a burst of green light. At first, she thought that Arden had been hit, that his insubordinate attitude had resulted in one of the council members becoming impatient and ending his life where he stood. But she realised that he had cast the spell and that it had hit Demalden. She imagined she could hear the thud as his body hit the floor; it was a dreadful sound, like the end of everything as she knew it.

The other council members were rushing to the defence of their leader, only to be stopped by Arden's robed followers who seemed to burst out of their crowd, spells already leaving the ends of their wands.

"Mina, we need to go," Sonyea shouted, pulling out her wand and quickly disapparating. Mina glanced around wishing that it were all a dream, wanting the noise, the fighting, to end. She let out a sob as a woman was hit by an errant spell, green bursting across her chest and sending her body flying through the air. She landed at Mina's feet, her eyes wide open and glassy, blood dripping from her nose.

Mina took her wand in her shaking hand, lifting it slightly to cast her spell. She watched the rest of the council members one-by-one disappear into great grey clouds, that quickly imploded into nothingness. With a shaky breath she followed them, closing her eyes in the hope that when she opened them, everything would be as it was before.

Hermione opened her eyes, blinking several times as she realised, she was back in the room with the green pillars. She took a few shuddery breaths, her body shaking from the rush of adrenalin. She couldn't believe that things had fallen apart so quickly, well-placed words working to shatter the community that had been evident in that room. Glancing around she noticed that Draco was still experiencing his memory; silvery smoke, wrapped around his frame in tendrils, tears glinting on his cheeks. She made her way towards him hesitantly, watching the wisps of smoke slowly dissipate.

"Malfoy?" She jumped back quickly when he fell to his knees, throwing up onto the polished floor, his face looking almost grey in the candlelight. He lifted his shaking hands up to his face and stared at them in such a haunted way, that Hermione was certain he was seeing something that she couldn't.

"Malfoy?" She hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. He stumbled to his feet and met her gaze, his grey eyes darker than normal.

"Malfoy, what happened?" He leant over suddenly, shaking his head from side to side, his hand gripping at his stomach.

"I think I'm gonna throw up…"

Hermione realised quickly what was happening, whipping out her wand and shouting a levitation spell, sighing in relief as it hit him before his body thudded to the floor. She hurriedly knelt at his side, tapping the side of his face gently.

"Malfoy, Malfoy. Wake up." She shifted his fringe out his face, noting that his forehead was beaded with sweat. "Malfoy are you okay?" She smiled when he blinked drearily at her, pressing her palm against his warm cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Granger?" The sight of his grey eyes searching hers made her breath catch and, the way he said her name was so different from normal, lacking in its usual harshness. The sound of it sent some sort of thrill chasing through her stomach that made her lean back a little, shifting away from him and away from the feeling, there were more pressing matters to consider.

"What happened to you?"


	13. A Small Part

"Granger?' Her bushy hair came into view; a halo of curls around a blob until her features wobbled into focus and he was looking up into her wide brown eyes full of worry. The thought of her worrying about him made him stomach clench uncomfortably.

"What happened to you?" She breathed, shifting away from him and seating herself on the floor, her knees tucked beneath her. Draco closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the cold floor, his arm flopping across his face. The memory flooded back, every detail as clear as when he'd experienced it as though he were back in that room, the tang of blood still fresh in the air. He took a calming breath when his stomach turned again.

"I need to transfer schools," He mumbled it into his arm.

"What?" Her voice, for once, wasn't pompous or pretentious, not whining at him about one school rule or another. He found that he liked it, something in its timbre almost calming. Her fingers closed around the sleeve of his jumper and tugged his arm away, peering at him with uncertainty, her great mass of hair blocking out the candlelight.

Draco gulped heavily as his hands itched to move an errant strand of hair, that had fallen across her cheek, back behind her ear. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, pressing his fingers almost painfully into the floor to keep them in place. He blamed the Sensieve, all the feelings and weird temptations were just down to the stupid magical bowl. Returning to the normal world was just a bit of a shock to the system and he made himself feel better by clinging onto the assurance that he was simply readjusting.

"Are you okay?" He closed his eyes at the question, allowing himself a moment of weakness to relish the softness of her voice. It sent the ever-present tingle of magic skipping along his skin and he shuddered.

"Malfoy?" His name on her lips felt like a bucket of cold water thrown in his face and he shivered back into reality, where he hated the witch hovering over him and everything she stood for. The witch in question went to reach for him again.

"Don't touch me, filthy little mudblood." They were not said with any of their usual venom, but Hermione still felt the stab of hurt that always accompanied them, scowling a little and climbing to her feet, brushing down the front of her skirt and glancing at the ceiling which was now full of stars. She smiled a little to herself, knowing that no matter how much the blonde tried to hurt her, he couldn't take these special moments away from her. She was a part of the world of magic whether he liked it or not.

"Just like in the great hall," she muttered to herself, glancing back down at the horizontal Slytherin and sighing. "At least tell me what happened." Draco jumped, seemingly startled by her voice, visibly paling as he once again hid behind his arm. "Was it the wizards council?" Draco frowned at her.

"What, in Merlin's name, are you on about?"

"Hmm, we must not have seen the same memory. I didn't know that possible."

"It doesn't matter." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"How many times have we had this argument, yes it does matter. The Sensieve is obviously not going to let us get away with not coming back, so we may as well just accept it, and move on." She watched him get shakily to his feet, resisting the urge to help him.

"Well that's easy for you to say, you don't have to see the memories of a child killer."

"What?" Hermione glared at Draco who was leaning against one of the green pillars for support, his legs still wobbling slightly. His hair was a mess, his uniform crumpled, and, for an absurd moment, Hermione thought he'd never looked better. She quickly shook her head, beginning to pace to hide the blush flaring on her cheeks.

"You heard me, the stupid muggle killed children." Draco felt a little guilty for Edward, especially wording it the way he had, he knew the man had no choice, but he couldn't afford to think like that, not about muggles. Hermione had never felt so heartbroken, she'd wanted so desperately for Edward to be good, hoping with all her heart that Mina would change him.

"We have to go back in, we have to find out…"

"NO, no, I've said it before but, I swear to Merlin, Granger, I mean it this time. I felt it, I actually felt it. Do you know what that means? I felt his blood…and Edward was..." He paused, resting his hands on his knees as his stomach somersaulted.

"Edward what?"

Draco's head snapped up as Hermione stepped closer, the Gryffindor and her questions infuriated him, making him feel boxed in.

'Why does it matter, why does any of it matter, Granger? You got what you wanted, we've been in the bowl, but I am not, I repeat - just in case your bushy hair blocked the sound - not going back in there." He tried walking towards the door, his vision blurring as he stumbled to the side violently.

"Woah." Hermione rushed forward, wrapping her arm around his waist, trying to take some of his weight. Draco struggled, nearly throwing them both off balance.

"Will…Will you stop being an immature prat, I'm trying to help." He tried to pull his arm away again, as she hoisted it over her shoulders, but a glare from the Gryffindor made him stop.

"I don't need your help." He said it half-heartedly, not entirely believing it himself.

"Of course not, you're just going to bounce off every available surface till you get back to the dungeons." He narrowed his eyes at her know-it-all but reluctantly allowed some of his weight to transfer to her, gulping a little at the fact that her tiny body fit neatly under his arm. The burn of magic that emanated from where their sides touched felt entirely too good, so he took pains to focus on just how dizzy and crappy he felt. He was so lost in not acknowledging her and the feeling of her pressed so close that it took him a while to realise they were going the wrong way.

"Wait…where are we going?" He tried to stop, but Hermione kept walking, dragging him along with her.

"The kitchens."

"What…. why?" Hermione paused, her eyes widening in panic.

"Shhh," she hissed, pressing her finger against her lips, and Draco found his eyes flickering down to look at them for entirely too long. "Listen," she mouthed, tipping her head. Their eyes met when they heard the familiar, tap and shuffle of Filch making his way towards where they stood.

"Hide," Hermione said frantically, dragging him along by his arm, with an alarming amount of strength, and pushing him into a small broom closet and quickly fumbling to close the door, plunging them into darkness.

"How in Merlin's name is he always where we are?" Draco muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The second time in one night, it had to be a tiny bit more than coincidence.

"Lumos." The tip of Hermione's wand glowed faintly, lighting up their faces and allowing Draco to see just how small the space she'd pulled them into was. she whispered, the tip of her wand lighting up slightly, allowing Draco to take in how the small space was. Almost like an afterthought, she quickly flicked her wrist and cast a silencing charm, before staring up at Draco with determination.

"You know, the memory I saw wasn't that great either." In spite of his apparent lack of interest, she quickly relayed what she had seen. With each word, magic seemed to swell between them, filling the tiny space making it feel so much more claustrophobic.

"It doesn't sound quite on par with killing a child," Draco spat when she'd finished, pressing his ear against the door and scowling when he could still make out the faint mutterings of Filch talking to Mrs Norris.

"You know this is typical, of course, you would overreact about something as harmless as a memory."

"Overreact? Harmless?" He stepped closer in the small space and Hermione stumbled back into the wall. "You weren't even there, how would you know? I felt everything...all the guilt, the hurt, the…" He tapered off noticing the look Hermione was giving him. He realised with horror how close they were.

"It might actually help for you to talk about it." He laughed at her statement bitterly.

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor." she rolled her eyes, her arm gently brushing his chest as she crossed her arms, warmth erupting around the connection and spreading along his skin. He closed his eyes.

"You okay?" She bit her lip as the words rushed out before she could stop them. In spite of her annoyance at his general attitude, she was still worried about him. Whatever he had seen had affected him, was still affecting him.

"I need to get out of here." He mumbled, reaching for the handle, glaring at Hermione when she hindered his progress by bustling between him and the door.

"What are you doing?" She gestured pointedly to the glow of light still peaking under the door, obviously form Filch's lantern. She had to hand it to the man, he took his job very seriously.

"Getting out of here." He tried to sound bored rather than desperate, even though he was, in fact, desperate; desperate for clear air, desperate to get away from the know-it-all and desperate to stop all the crazy thoughts in his head.

"Will you just wait. I'm sure he'll be gone soon." She said it with as much conviction as she could muster, a small niggle of doubt making her question whether the caretaker would ever carry on his merry way. Draco grumbled but stepped back, pressing himself against the opposite wall in an attempt to open up some space between them.

A few moments of silence passed before he glanced at her out the corner of his eyes. "Why were we going to the kitchen?"

"To get you something to eat and drink," she said with a shrug, not meeting his gaze. "You were…you couldn't go back to the dungeons like that.' Draco was speechless and incredibly grateful for the low light as he flushed. The idea that Hermione Granger cared a little about him made him feel a lot better than he thought it would.

"Plus, I don't...I don't exactly want to go back to the Gryffindor tower, just yet." He could tell she uncomfortable opening up to him. He could sense the fear in her words and very nearly pointed them out, just as he always would have done; pointing out a weakness and turning it into some big joke. Instead, he opted for silence.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the light faded from under the door, and Hermione hesitantly opened the door, peering out into the gloomy corridor and sighing with relief. Not wasting any time, she stepped out into the clear air, grateful to be out of the stifling space filled with magic and Malfoy. She turned back to the blonde a little disappointed when she noticed that he seemed back to his normal self; hands dug deep into his pockets and the same general air of indifference as he peered down at her. Her shoulders sagged as he sauntered away without a word. It wasn't that she wanted to spend more time with him per-say, but she definitely didn't want to be alone. While she constantly played down the memories when speaking to Draco, she couldn't ignore the fact that what she had experienced rattled her.

Draco paused, scuffing his shoe along the floor, uncertain what to do with the new, very unfamiliar knot of guilt that was tying itself in his stomach over the thought of leaving a scared Granger alone. Surprising himself, he quickly turned and strode back towards Hermione, who was already making her way despondently back to the Gryffindor tower. Hermione jumped and let out a small squeak when he fell into step beside her.

"I guess they'll have ice cream or something." It took Hermione a moment to work out what exactly was happening and what the blonde was talking about. By the time realisation had dawned he was stomping ahead of her and she rushed to follow him a small smile tugging at her lips.

Draco scowled at his own stupidity, wondering what in Salazar's name was wrong with him, but couldn't help his lips turning up slightly in satisfaction as he heard her rush to follow him. He figured it was because he was scared too and being left alone was the last thing he wanted, even if it meant spending more time with the Prissy Gryffindor. But a small part of him knew that wasn't the case at all. It was small though, and he decided, for his own sanity, it was better not to acknowledge it.


	14. Ice Cream

"You're supposed to tickle it," Hermione whispered, glancing over Draco's shoulder, before eyeing the stairway warily. After their, almost run in with Filch her guard had been up, certain she could see shadows shifting out the corner of her eye. Malfoy, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered, waltzing down corridors as if it were broad daylight.

"I am tickling it!" Malfoy turned his head quickly to spit the words in Hermione's face, before turning away and hunching his shoulders to block her view.

"You're not…You're poking," she pointed out, trying to push his arm away, only to get an elbow to the face. He stepped back, his eyes squinting at her in anger.

"It's a magical painting of a fruit, Granger, I hardly think it matters." The late-night excursion to the kitchen for ice cream no longer seemed worth all the Granger.

"Well of course it matters. Look, just let me do it." She bustled in front of him, leaning down to inspect the painting. Draco rolled his eyes dramatically, scowling when he heard the painted pear let out a shrill chuckle. Hermione stood, shooting him a smug smile, her hands resting on her hips in triumph.

"Wow, Granger, molesting painted fruit, what book you read that in?" Hermione scowled, swatting his arm lightly.

"Ow. Seriously that was uncalled for." Draco mocked, rubbing his arm playfully.

'Oh, you'll live. And I didn't read it anywhere if you must know, the twins told me." She muttered, turning the green handle and stepping into the kitchen. She wasn't sure why she'd told him that. Talking to Draco Malfoy usually entailed withholding as much information as possible. Whenever she had accidentally mentioned things before it had resulted in ridicule, or she and her friends somehow getting into trouble. Now though, he simply listened and, when she turned back to look at him, he was giving her that strange look he'd taken to shooting her way recently.

They both stood silently, Hermione watching as Draco took in his surroundings with an open mouth. The kitchen was impressive; its ceiling stretching up impossibly far, the floor taken up by tables laid out as they were in the great hall, pots and pans hung from hooks that were suspended in mid-air and when Hermione reached to touch one, it gently floated away. An obscene about of plates were piled on counters to dizzying heights, the tall towers swaying gently.

Suddenly a tiny house-elf blinked into existence, its big ears drooping and large eyes blinking at them in confusion. Something resembling recognition flashed across the small creature's face and it narrowed its eyes at Hermione.

"Students are not supposed to be in here." The elf shrieked, pointing its short knobbly finger at them, ragged dress brushing against it knees.

"It's okay, I've been here before." Hermione turned to Draco, somewhat confused and embarrassed by the turn of events, "I don't understand, they were really welcoming last time."

"Perhaps your bushy hair scared them away?" Draco suggested, grinning innocently at her when she scowled at him.

"Students should not be out of bed." The elf continued, crossing its bony arms and turning its nose in the air. Hermione was at a loss, she wasn't sure what had taken place in between the time that she, Harry and Ron had visited but she was certain it was something drastic. Her mind wandered to the possibility of them having received punishment for allowing her, Harry and Ron to visit as they had.

"We...we erm…"

"We have express permission from, Professor Dumbledore himself. Ice cream if you please." Hermione turned to Draco, mouth opening and closing in shock for a moment as she watched the blonde make himself comfy at the end of one of the long tables. The elf seemed to brighten up at being given an order and instantly jerked into life, waving its hand to summon two bowls.

"Willow is proud to bring you food."

"Glad to hear it," Draco answered casually, picking a piece of fluff off his jumper.

She slipped onto the chair opposite him, leaning close. He could smell strawberries, the sweetness seeming to be wafting from the tight curls that sprung from her head. He leant a little closer, curiously sniffing the air, jerking back in horror when he realised exactly what he was doing. Mercifully she began whispering furiously at him and he was able to brush off whatever craziness had momentarily overcome him.

"You're such a liar, and show some manners, House-elves are not slaves," she said it accusingly. He meant to glare at her, but when he looked up, she was following Willow's progress around the kitchen, care evident in her expression. To his horror, the sight warmed him.

"I am a Slytherin," he stated, as if that explained everything, "and quit complaining. We got the ice cream, didn't we?" He shrugged, gesturing to the silver bowls full of ice cream that had magically popped into existence in front of them.

Willow hovered around them, watching Draco expectantly as he dug his spoon into the ice cream happily.

"I don't suppose," Hermione turned to the elf, picking up her spoon slowly, "you've heard of my organisation, S.P.E.W?" She was aware that Malfoy was staring at her, but she focused on ignoring him, smiling encouragingly at Willow. The small house-elf looked terrified, her eyes wide as she backed away from the table. Hermione considered that maybe someone had entered the kitchen – perhaps a teacher – and turned to look. By the time she looked back, Willow had disappeared. She sighed, eyeing the blonde in front of her.

"You were so mean, making demands like that. Elves have feelings you know?" Draco raised an eyebrow slowly.

"Seemed like demands are all it would listen to." He shrugged, scooping more ice cream into his mouth and closing his eyes momentarily at the taste.

"She. The it you're referring to was a she." she was chastising him again and, for some reason, he found it slightly endearing.

"Fine, She. Are you going to eat or just sit there telling me off?" Hermione bit back a retort, picking up her spoon and digging in.

Draco sat quietly, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the contents of his bowl, knowing full well that the Gryffindor was staring at him.

"So…" The words hung in the air and Draco huffed, glancing up at her rather tiredly.

"What, Granger?" Her name came out a little more strangled than he'd intended it to when he was met with the sight of her avidly licking the back of her spoon.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" She asked, humming in appreciation as she took another bite of ice-cream.

"Why don't, you tell me about this spew." Hermione froze, a blush reddening her cheeks, a flicker of annoyance dancing in her eyes.

"It's S.P.E.W," she corrected, "and I'd really rather not."

"And why is that?" The wolfish grin he flashed worryingly made her forget exactly why she didn't want to tell him anything. Had he always looked that…Hermione shook her head before any such thoughts could take root, wishing that the ground could possibly swallow her up for even straying into the territory of complimenting the Slytherin.

"Because - because you'll just laugh at me." Draco put his hand on his chest in mock hurt.

"What must you think of me?" Hermione smiled, rolling her eyes.

"You know what I think of you and you also know that it is one hundred per cent correct."

"That I'm devilishly handsome?" Hermione's snort of disgust lacked some of its fervour when she considered where her thoughts had been wandering off to mere moments before.

"That you're a dick."

"Ouch, don't mince your words do you?"

"I believe in honesty above all things."

"Yes well, consider the fact that you might actually be pleasantly surprised." Hermione laughed lightly.

"What? Are you going to tell me how I've thoroughly misjudged you? How we how we'll be the best of friends, spending the rest of the year braiding each other's hair and making daisy chains?" Hermione snorted at the look of horror on Draco's face.

"I honestly doubt anyone could tame your hair, Granger," he said drily, not truly believing it as he remembered how she'd looked the night of the Yule Ball. "And daisy chains? What are we, five? No, I'm simply pointing out that, I might - emphasis on the might - not laugh at whatever your spew thing happens to be."

"SPEW and, forgive me for not rushing to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets, but you know, years of torment and all that." She said lightly, flicking a stray curl over her shoulder.

"Oh, so this little snippet is deep and dark then? All the more reason for you to tell me, those two things happen to my speciality." Hermione choked on her ice cream, blushing furiously but somehow chuckling along with him.

"You're disgusting," She admonished, shaking her head.

"I was on about secrets, Granger. Not sure what sewer your filthy lion brain was splashing about in." Hermione flashed him a cheeky smile and he wondered, by all things Merlin, how any of it was happening. She looked laid back, relaxed and, dare he even think it, actually pretty.

"Well considering how much you time you spend splashing about down there yourself, I'm sure you'll know it well." It took a moment for Hermione to realise what she had said, her eyes widening when she did and her face glowing redder than it had before. Draco was clutching his stomach, his shoulders shaking as he laughed at her.

"Granger…you surprise me."

"I was on about the sewer."

"Of course, you were," He wheezed, wiping the tears from his cheeks. Hermione rolled her eyes, but he could tell that it wasn't with her usual disdain, she was fighting back her amusement too. It was all so very new, they'd been enemies for so long, and yet, it felt as if they'd shed that part of themselves and were sitting opposite each other, just Malfoy and just Granger. It felt strange, a nice kind of strange, it bubbled in his stomach with all its strangeness and made him feel giddy.

"I tell you what, I'll make you a deal."

"Well, that's ominous. It's not the 'sell your soul' type, you Slytherins are so fond of, is it? Ooo perhaps an unbreakable vow? I draw the line at signing my name in blood," she shivered slightly, "That's just icky." She met his gaze, and Draco couldn't help but chuckle, she always seemed to have a comeback, always putting him in his place. And now he was starting to realise why he kept putting himself through the torment.

"Hardly Granger. You," He pointed his spoon at her, "tell me about this, spew…"

"S.P.E.W."

"That's what I said - and I tell you about what happened in the Sensieve." He wiggled his eyebrows, allowing himself to grin in triumph. He knew she wouldn't be able to refuse.

"That's - that's blackmail."

"Nothing quite so dramatic, Granger. More like an exchange of information. My secret, for yours. Sounds fair to me." Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"Seems like you're getting the better end of the deal."

"I hadn't thought about it." He was quite obviously lying, but the way she worried over her lip informed him that she had taken the bait, she was just working out the wording.

It was quite a horrific realisation that befell him when he thought about how well he knew the Gryffindor. All the way down to subtle expressions he seemed to have it mapped, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to elicit them. He hadn't truly considered, till that moment, how worrying his knowledge of Granger's facial expressions actually was, suggesting hours of considerable study in order to formulate the extensive catalogue that he possessed. He tried to blame it on his favourite past time of causing her as much pain and heartache as possible, needing to know these things about her for maximum effect. Problem was, he didn't know Potty and Weasel half so well and he would go as far as to say that he hated them a whole heck of a lot more than he hated Granger.

Hermione was working out how to tell him. She knew he'd laugh at her, he always had, but now she didn't want him to. She wanted to keep the fragile atmosphere they'd created delicately balanced between them; unfamiliar, new and so enjoyable. There was an easiness to it, something that she'd never expected when being in Malfoy's company, but there it was, and she wanted it to stay that way.

Malfoy was smiling with a cheeky kind of shyness that she found almost endearing her mouth opening and words spilling out almost of their own volition.

"Fine...fine. S.P.E.W is an organisation I came up with; the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare." Hermione was staring into the swirl of ice cream melting in the bottom of the bowl, her spoon mixing together the different colours, she jumped as Malfoy burst out laughing.

She wished she still had her time turner, so at the very least she could go back and smack past Hermione round the back of the head or being so utterly beguiled by her enemies' smile. The patheticness of it was not lost on her and she resisted the urge to allow her head to sink into her hands in shame. However, when she looked up, she realised he was just genuinely amused; he wasn't making fun of her, wasn't giving her the look of disgust, he usually did, he was just laughing. She had to admit, the look suited him.

"Only you would make an organisation for creatures that don't want to be saved," he wheezed between bouts of laughter, wiping his eyes, as tears glittered in the corner of them.

"They do want to be saved, some elves are incredibly mistreated," she spluttered, banging the table indignantly, which only served to make Malfoy laugh more.

"You do realise that most of them enjoy the work?" He met her gaze levelly, once he'd managed to calm himself down.

"That's not technically true, while some of them do work for caring people, there are those that work for foul, loathsome people, and they need to know that they are not alone...stop laughing. See this, this is why I didn't want to tell you," she gestured to Malfoy, whose shoulders were shaking as he tried to contain the laughter once again bubbling up inside of him.

"Typical Granger, wanting to help everyone," He breathed, pushing his empty bowl away, and meeting her gaze.

"I could be wrong, but that almost sounded like a compliment." Draco scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "Yeah well, don't get used to it." Hermione smiled smugly, tucking into the rest of the ice cream happily.

"I held up my end of the bargain," she stated, after a while of Malfoy just sitting in silence, staring into the deep brown of the table with wide eyes. Draco groaned, getting up and pacing the great expanse of floor.

"Do you really want to hear this?" He asked, turning to her, hands in his pockets; she noticed he did that a lot, especially when he was uncomfortable.

"Honestly, at this point, I can't believe you need to ask that. Plus, I think talking about it would help." Malfoy gave her a withering look but sighed and began to relay what he had seen, pausing every now and again when the reality of it made him feel slightly nauseous.

"That's...that's awful," Hermione breathed, "poor Edward."

"Erm, excuse me, poor me for having to experience that," He said, slightly annoyed she wasn't giving him more sympathy.

"Yes, yes, well obviously. Are you okay?' She stood slowly, walking around the table and standing in front of him, her head tipped to one side, fingers lightly brushing his arm. His throat constricted at the contact and he quickly turned away, clearing his throat.

"Yes, I mean...as well as I can be, stabbing a child in the neck does have a tendency to make you feel a little shitty." Hermione shivered, noticing that in spite of Draco's sarcastic tone he genuinely looked frightened. She understood, sometimes it felt as though there was no difference between her and Mina, the memories feeling as though they were her own. She couldn't imagine owning something so terrible.

"He did it for her," Hermione muttered, hesitantly trying to make the blonde feel at least a little better.

"Yeah, well he was an idiot. All he did was pledge his murderous allegiance to a sicko."

"I wonder if there is anything about him – you know, Tharin - in the Library. If he was so well known back then, there stands a chance that there might be some record of him."

"I guess so, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look." Hermione was shocked he was agreeing with her. She'd gotten so used to fighting Malfoy on everything his compliance felt a little bit like a smack round the face.

"We could go tomorrow, after dinner. I have to help Harry with research, but I could meet you after, say about nine?" Draco grinned.

"You've really taken to breaking the rules recently haven't you, Granger?"

"What makes you think I've only just started?" She lifted her head defiantly, chin pointing up into the air and Draco grinned lazily.

"I dunno, just a hunch. Unless being a teacher's pet was just a well-crafted disguise."

"Who knows? Not much of a disguise if I tell you." Draco laughed again.

"Touché, Granger, touché." He glanced down at the floor uncomfortably, toeing the tiled floor and blushing profusely, "So, I'll meet you tomorrow then?" He almost cringed at how hopeful he sounded. He hoped Hermione wouldn't notice and to his relief she seemed set on heading towards the door, her ears glowing crimson.

"Yes, and erm…thank you for…"

"Don't mention it, Granger. I wanted Ice cream." With a nod she left, and Draco followed soon after wondering what in Merlin's name was wrong with him.


	15. The Good, The Bad and the Bitterness

They sat opposite one another tucked away in a small alcove towards the back of the library. Draco's wand rested on the windowsill, propped against a large tome to stop it rolling, the end of it lit and casting a small halo of light over the books in front of them. Finding history books related to Edward and Mina's era had been relatively easy, with Hermione shoving book after book at Draco till he was balancing a rather precarious looking pile in his arms. The pile had been painstakingly divided between them, with Hermione assuring him that they both had a relatively equal amount of literature to trawl through. Draco begged to differ, pointing out that several books on his pile were significantly bigger than those in Hermione's, but after his grumbling received nothing but a raised eyebrow from the Gryffindor, he sunk into the pit of research despair that Hermione seemed to revel in.

Hermione glanced up taking in the sight of the blonde Slytherin hunched over, his chin resting on his hand as he flicked through the large tome in front of him. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around how ordinary it all felt, how easy it had been to sneak away from her friends - who'd been arguing over a game of Wizard chess - and meet her long-term enemy.

"Find anything?" Draco drawled for about the fourth time that night, slowly looking up from his book. Hermione looked down quickly, her face warming as she realised she had been staring.

"No." she muttered. As wonderful as books were, there was the tendency for the infuriating case of 'finding a needle in a huge stack of needles'. "What about you?" She asked looking up.

"Nothing." He pushed the large volume away. "Pages and pages cataloguing the Battle of Snagbloom, but nothing, and I mean nothing, on Tharin Morax."

"Battle of Snag what?" Hermione questioned, her nose wrinkling as she reached forward turning the book towards her. Draco leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.

"Centaurs, wood elves, big palaver over this patch of grass. Thrilling stuff really comes highly recommended." Hermione giggled as she realised, he really wasn't kidding, the book detailed every event with excruciating detail right down the specific wording of a peace treaty, outlined by Bortias Squint, a wizard who lived not far from the beautiful green hills of Snagbloom.

"Uldus Blubbort knew what mattered, huh?" she mumbled letting out another giggle. Draco covered his mouth trying to hide the smile her laughter had elicited.

"You do realise the Battle of Snagbloom was a turning point for centaurs and Wood-elves, it seriously changed the way in which both species lived." Draco tried to remain serious but found himself laughing when he saw Hermione's shoulders begin to shake. "What? It's a serious matter." He spluttered, which only served to make Hermione laugh more.

Hermione wiped tears from her eyes, closing the book in front of her and adding it to the pile she'd read.

"This is infuriating. Why is there nothing here?" Hermione sighed, shaking her head she drew the last book on her pile in front of her and flipped it open. Draco watched her curiously, wondering for about the 100th time that night why he was spending even more time with the Gryffindor. She infuriated him, made him angry, was everything he despised and yet, she made him laugh. To his utter despair, he'd found himself thinking about her all day, daydreaming about the bucktooth when he should have been working or holding some sort of conversation with his friends. When the time came to finally meet her, he'd almost bailed; he convinced himself that she probably wouldn't even miss his presence, but as soon as he'd seen her bushy hair bouncing around the corner he'd given up on the idea.

"Perhaps our evil psycho wasn't quite as well-known as we thought?" He pondered, glancing around at the darkness of the Library. He had to admit, he understood why Granger would choose to spend her time there. The aisles of books held an easy quiet to them that was calming. Even in the darkness, he found that it was comforting rather than foreboding; the black holding secrets.

"Wait, look at this." Hermione tapped the book in front of her with the tip of her finger and Draco stood up, walking round to glance over her shoulder.

"Hmm, hair." He stated and Hermione scowled up at him shifting her frizzy hair over to one side and revealing a delicate expanse of neck that made him gulp slightly. He shook his head leaning closer and concentrating on the words in front of the Gryffindor.

"Did you see anything like this?" Hermione asked. It was a sketch, black, white and grainy, but the pattern was unmistakable. Draco shivered as he remembered the brand seared onto the skin of Tharin's victims as they crouched in their small cages. He leant back trying to create some distance between him and the mark, almost as if the very picture of it would conjure the Sensieve's magic.

"That's the one," He said after a while, sucking air in through his teeth, "what does it say?"

"Nothing. Just that...Just that it is subject to mystery and controversy among many witches and wizards. Only archives of the oldest families would hold any details on its origins, and these are kept hidden." Draco frowned.

'Hidden?' Hermione nodded staring down at the words in bewilderment.

"Wait, look here." she gestured to the bottom of the page, loopy handwriting catching her eye. With a jolt, she realised that it was the same handwriting that had led her to information on the Sensieve.

"Translation of brand: TR," Draco muttered, leaning even closer till Hermione could feel his arm brushing against hers sending little tingles of magic dancing across her skin.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"I don't know, but I've seen this writing before. It was in a book, it told me where to find information on the Sensieve."

"Hmmm." Draco shrugged, moving back around the table to fall heavily into his chair. With a sigh he glanced at the last book in his pile; It was a muggle book and they'd only picked it up because Hermione had insisted it was worth as shot. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that she had a point; muggle and magic history overlapped and intertwined through the ages, it would make sense that muggles might have recorded something, even if it was entirely incorrect.

He pulled the book toward him opening the cover and trawling through till he found the section on witch trials. Miniature black and white pictures of witches being burnt accompanied the text and they made him feel nauseous. The next page made him reel back, the book almost dropping to the floor. The icy blue eyes of Tharin Morax stared out at him, a small smirk curling on his lips. Whoever had sketched the picture had captured a likeness that sent shivers up Draco's spine.

"Granger." He muttered and Hermione looked up, concern flashing through her eyes as she saw how pale he'd become. "It's him." He gestured at the page. The man was handsome in a pompous way, holding himself with a kind of pride that she knew could never be taught.

"He looks so normal," she stated, her eyes drawn to the text that listed all of his crimes.

"Yeah," Draco said, laughing bitterly, "looks can be deceiving."

"Tharin Morax, tortured, mutilated and killed thousands of innocent men, women, and children, stating that they were in fact practitioners of the dark arts. Those that he believed were witches or wizards, were branded with his initials and tortured till they confessed. This, this is terrible."

"His initials?" Draco queried, pulling at the book Hermione had been reading from. He checked the looped writing, and double checked. He supposed that Muggles could have been wrong about it, but something told him they weren't. He turned over the page wincing as a painting of Tharin looked up at him; his face set and serious, much older than he had been in the memory. Draco scanned the text quickly his heart threatening to stop. It couldn't be, the idea of it was impossible and yet the words were real against the page, as real as Hermione's hand resting on the table next to his.

"Look at this." He held the page up to Hermione and watched as her eyes widened.

"It...it can't be," she gasped "that's impossible surely."

"And yet, there it is."

"Tharanias Riddle, more commonly known as the bloodthirsty witch hunter, Tharin Morax." Hermione paused letting it sink in.

"But Riddle...that's...that." She didn't want to say his name, didn't want to utter it in the darkness and Draco understood why; the library that had, only moments ago, felt like a safe haven, had suddenly become dark and foreboding, evil shadows creeping in making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

"Why would he change his name?" Draco muttered, jumping slightly as he felt his little finger brush against Hermione's. He considered moving it but the warmth of magic travelling up his arm was almost comforting in the darkness so he left it there, hoping by Merlin that she wouldn't notice. He peeked at her from behind his fringe and let out a sigh of relief when it seemed as though she hadn't.

"I don't know, I guess it's no different from You Know Who, he changed his name." Hermione moved away, sitting slowly, her eyes full of sadness.

"How could he get away with that?" she said, gesturing to the book. Draco looked down wincing at the images that were all too familiar.

"Bad people tend to get away with bad things, Granger. It's the way of the world" He said with a shrug, lifting the cover of the book off the table and closing it slowly.

"That's a very cynical view." Hermione glanced at him and Draco instantly glanced away, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. He didn't want her to think she made him uncomfortable, but she did, she really annoyingly did.

"It's a realistic view. Bad people are bad, so they run around doing bad things to good people and, nine times out of ten, they get away with it." Hermione laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears and putting her elbows on the table letting her chin rest in her open palms.

"You can't honestly believe that?"

"And why not," he said, meeting her gaze with his grey eyes, "look at it this way. Tharin Morax, or Riddle, or whatever. Terrible psycho muggle killed thousands of innocents and somehow gets a book written about him. Probably shagged himself into oblivion and, as we know, sired a few mini psychos to carry on the family name." Hermione snorted at his wording but carried on listening.

"Now, Mina and Edward, dead. No books, no mention, not enough time for happy bonking and popping out any kids. So yeah, bad people outweigh the good and that's just one example." Draco shrugged. "It' better to just accept it and move on, let the 'good guys' and the 'bad guys' hash it out and hope there's enough world left at the end to pay grovelling homage to whoever rises to be the victor."

Hermione scoffed, lifting her head out of her hands, and shooting him a wary glance. "And what about you?" Draco tipped his head slightly in curiosity.

"What about me?"

"You'd just sit back and watch it all unfold and not do anything?" Draco grinned, leaning forward.

"What else is there to do?"

"Er fight." Hermione pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And what good would that do?"

"I don't know, something, at least more than simply sitting back and watching it unfold. How could you not stand for anything?" Draco smirked a little making her skin prickle with irritation.

"Oh, I stand for things like; living, breathing, keeping my nose out of things."

"But what if...what if there was something that you had to fight for, something important?"

"Apart from myself?"

"Oh, come on, even you're not that selfish." Hermione admonished, not quite able to make her statement sound believable.

"Who says I'm not? You see you Gryffindors you're all about running in, wands blazing and leaving important questions like, 'will I survive this?" till afterwards. Here's a little advice for you, it's a tad too late then."

"But what if there was something you really cared about, something that you had to fight for no matter what." Draco stared at Hermione for some time hating the ache in his heart when she said those words. He felt as though he was walking down a dangerous path and now was a pretty good time to run back the other way.

"I don't have anything even remotely close to that important in my life." Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms.

"I think you'd fight if you found something important to you."

"Oh really?" Draco said, lifting one eyebrow. "And in this hypothetical fight, which side would I be fighting on?"

Hermione paused, her mouth opening and closing as she found herself unable to answer his question.

"Whichever side you thought was right." Hermione jumped as Draco let out a loud laugh.

"Nice one, Granger. Such a diplomatic answer." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Look, all I'm saying is that when you find something important, you'd do anything to protect it. It's not about being good or bad, it's about fighting for what you believe in. I mean, look at Harry, he doesn't ask for all the crazy things that happen to him, but he deals with them because he wants to keep those he cares about, safe." Hermione said with a shrug.

Draco's smile dropped as soon as she mentioned his name, he hated the fact that once again the spectacled Scarface was muscling in on their time together. He tried not to focus too much on what that actually meant.

"Yes, because hurtling from one dangerous situation to the next is a sure-fire way of keeping the people you care about safe." He mocked, shaking his head. Hermione bristled in irritation, he really did have an uncanny way of making her feel like a complete idiot.

"He does what he has to." Hermione asserted through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure he does, all the fame and butt kissing, that's just an enjoyable side benefit."

"You know all that actually annoys him?"

"Yes, I imagine amassing the entire wizarding worlds adoration does put a bee in one's bonnet," He scoffed sarcastically.

"Why are you so bitter about everything?"

"Because there's plenty to be bitter about, like jumped up little orphans who manage to fall in an out of all manner of crazy situations without so much as breaking his sodding glasses."

"What is it you have against my friends? I don't go around insulting your friends every five seconds."

"That's because my friends are normal, Granger," Draco said smugly, taking his wand from the windowsill and getting up out of his chair.

"Normal?" Hermione scoffed, jumping up to follow him. "Normal? You think that the bullying of pretty much every person that doesn't meet there snootily high standards, normal?"

"You don't know anything about my friends, Granger," Draco growled defensively.

"And you don't know anything about mine." Hermione defended, lowering her voice when she realised, she'd begun to shout.

"Oh, I know plenty, Granger. Potty is all anyone can harp on about."

"Because of course, everything that anyone has ever said about Harry is almost certainly entirely true." Hermione scoffed.

"Honestly I couldn't give a Leprechauns green ass what is or isn't true about Potty, just leave my friends out of it."

Hermione drew back slightly, shocked a little by Draco's furious defence of people that she herself couldn't really stand. At first, she'd thought that the gap between them had once again opened up, making space for all their crazy differences to muscle in and create problems. Now she realised they were just the same. Though he didn't always show it Malfoy's defence of the idiots he called friends seemed something close to caring.

"So, it's okay for you to drag my friend's name through the mud but woe betide I so much as slightly hint that your little cronies are less than perfect."

"Wow, so they're my little cronies now, what does that make you Potty's sidekick?" Hermione growled in frustration, rubbing her forehead.

"Why are we even fighting?" She breathed, shaking her head and looking up at him, tiredness sitting in little bags under her eyes.

"I don't know, you're the Know-it-all." Hermione felt too drained to retort so instead settled on glaring at him, letting her shoulders drop in defeat.

"Maybe we should just agree not to talk about our friends." Draco seemed to consider this for a while before giving her a small nod of affirmation.

"And that means keeping your petty little insults to yourself." Hermione chastised, pointing her finger at him angrily.

"So, patronising." Draco sneered.

"And so right, look whatever differences we have we are just going to have to...shelve them for a bit."

"Whatever, Granger," Draco said with a shrug, turning to walk away.

"At least we know one thing," Hermione said smugly, moving to follow him.

"And what is that exactly?" Draco asked, completely uninterested. She had annoyed him more than he wanted to admit, simply because during the whole argument, even past the anger and seething hatred for all her sickly-sweet views of her friends, she'd looked phenomenal. The sight of her all fierce and glary made his mouth go a little dry because the look suited her so darn much.

"Well, we know you at least care about something." Draco rolled his eyes before pausing in horror.

"Not again?" He sighed as the library melted away, and they were once again stood in the room with the emerald pillars.


	16. Infatuation

The bark of the fallen tree felt rough beneath his fingertips, its surface glinting with frost. His breath fogged the air as he breathed out slowly. It was cold, the chill of it sinking into his leather jacket and trousers; drops of dew froze on branches like glass and the wood surrounding him was hushed in a silence that only winter could illicit.

He knew the earth was the same, knew that the trees hadn't changed at all in the week since they'd been apart, but everything around him felt different. The very world seemed to have shifted. Everywhere he went, the phantom of the dead boy followed, and with it came the guilt, it hung off his shoulders, hurting and heavy, and painted his hands red whenever he looked down at them.

Mina. He repeated her name in his head, wondering how he would tell her, how he would be able to cope with denying her. He'd never wanted something as desperately as he wanted to impress her. The sound of distant footfalls broke through the silence and Edward looked up, his breath catching in his throat as Mina stepped into view. Her peach skirt was bunched in her small hands as she lifted it clear off the frozen earth. Her hair floated behind her in golden tendrils and her cheeks were flushed with the cold. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful, or more out of reach.

"I came as soon as I could," she said, trying to suppress a smile at the sight of him, pulling her grey shawl around her shoulders tighter. Edward stood hesitantly not trusting himself to speak. He had been so prepared, knew what he needed to do, what he needed to say, but her mere presence sent him reeling. "Things have been...difficult." He nodded, in the occasions that they had managed to meet she had spoken about the unrest amongst the magic users, had told him of her worries and dreams for a better world. Everything had felt so possible then, but now they seemed to crumble into dust, crackling into nothingness like the dead leaves that crumbled beneath his boots as he dragged his feet along the ground. Mina looked up at him, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Edward was struck by the overwhelming urge to lose himself in the taste of her, his stomach knotting, as the thought took hold, and became difficult to ignore.

"Are you well? I have…" Mina paused, adjusting her shawl uncomfortably, embarrassment clear in the rigid set of her shoulders. "I have thought of you often." The words thrilled him in a way that no words ever had, and the longing to reach out and hold her grew to dizzying heights within him. The way he felt about her, it was almost easy to pretend he had known her forever and not the few months with which they had been able to meet. But it was, the reality of it held him back. With a sigh, he turned away, running his hands through his knotted hair, concentrating on the small tugs of pain, anchors holding him in reality.

"Have...have you not thought of me?" He clenched his teeth as he heard the uncertainty of her words. He wanted more than anything to have the strength to turn her away then, but instead, words of reassurance tumbled out his mouth.

"Yes...I mean, of course." He stopped, staring at the leather of his boots, searching for answers in the pattern of wear scratched across their surface.

"Edward?" Her hand fell onto his shoulder, and he turned into it, almost giving in to whatever embrace she would offer him. But the young boy's face flickered through his mind, wide lifeless eyes looking straight into him.

"I met with Tharin Morax yesterday," Edward spoke the words slowly, reluctant to utter them, knowing that, after this meeting, he would never see Mina again. Mina flinched, her hand lifting off his shoulder as if she had been burnt.

"But...but why? That man...he's a... a…"

"Monster?" He couldn't help but laugh bitterly, she had no idea how much of a monster he truly was. "I know, but I have my orders." He shrugged

"And that is it?" Mina's head fell to the side, waiting patiently for his answer, and he simply stared back dumbly.

"I'm not sure what you…You make it sound like I have a choice." Mina nodded as if that was exactly what she thought.

"Everyone has a choice, Edward."

"What is it that you suggest?"

"I don't know, Edward, but you can't, you can't work for that man. What about the boy that saved you? What of his life, his sacrifice, it can't all of been for nothing?" Edward stumbled back at her words, falling heavily onto the fallen tree, as guilt stabbed him in the gut over and over. The force of it left him struggling for breath, tears stinging his eyes, he blinked them back and looked up at her.

"I cannot simply ignore orders given to me by my king," He pointed at his chest angrily, the action making Mina frown, "And I cannot just defy the most dangerous man alive and expect him not to hunt me down and kill me."

"Orders given by one man sitting in a high castle, are...are," Mina gestured wildly in the air, searching for the word, "folly, and fear of what one man may or may not do, should not dictate what is right and what is wrong." Edward laughed, her words so painfully innocent, he actually felt like crying.

"What is so funny?" She inquired, her arms crossed, eyes glittering dangerously.

"What is right and what is wrong." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Your ideals are commendable, Mina, but they lack substance. Whether for good or for ill, if I stand against Tharin, he will kill me." He rested elbows on his knees, sighing. "I do not know what world you live in, Mina, but it is not the same as mine." He muttered the last part, more to himself.

"How dare you." Her words were cold, and he looked up quickly. Her lips were pressed together with force, the action making them thin and pale. Edward stared, thinking of the little girl who had told him off all those years ago, wishing he had truly listened to her words, wondering if he had, whether anything would be different.

"I am not a child; how dare you treat me so."

"Tis, not you, but your ideals that are childish."

"Childish? Childish? You think that it is childish to have morals and stick to them, to believe that there is good in the world, and it is the only weapon we have against men like Tharin Morax."

"Yes," He answered, exasperated, lifting himself off the fallen tree, towering over her. She stood her ground, looking up at him defiantly, reminding Draco briefly of Granger. It was the same stance, the same haughty lift of her chin. He imagined he could see the volatile Gryffindor looking at him from Mina's green eyes.

"Do you not see, that, regardless of what I want, what I hope for, men like Tharin will always win."

"Only because men like you, let him." She spat it in his face, and he grabbed her arm before she could storm away.

"Unhand me, Commander." She struggled against him, huffing as he turned her back to face him.

"I want to believe you, I do. To believe that good could conquer everything and solve all our problems is…well, it's a nice dream Mina, but just a dream. You stubbornly hold to this fantasy that will never come to pass."

"I would rather stubbornly stand for what I believe in, be known for my innocence than be branded a coward." Edward dropped her arm in shock, feeling as though the air had been punched out of his lungs.

"You have no idea, do you?" He whispered at first, volume rising with every syllable, "No idea what it's like."

Mina stared at him for some time, her eyes shifting away from Edward, glancing back the way she came. He almost wished that she would decide to leave of her own volition. Such a decision would make everything easier.

"Enlighten me then?" Her words were stern, but her face was curious.

"I made a vow, a vow to my king, that I would fight, till death, to defend his majesty, his kingdom, and those that inhabited it. I believed in it, lived by it. Every time I killed those that threatened the balance I felt as though I were fulfilling it. I was a hero, conquering lands and spilling blood, for, for something worthwhile." He shook his head, letting it fall back to stare at the sky; it was growing dark and the icy blue was slowly fading into an inky darkness. "But it wasn't worthwhile, was it? I killed all those people; men, women," He faltered over children, choosing not to say it, the sound getting stuck in his throat. "I killed them all for nothing." He rubbed his hands across his face, "I know it, I'm a murderer, I am under no illusion that I am a good man. But if I give up all that I have lived for. Well-well then, it's true isn't it, and everyone will know. If I give it up," His voice cracked around the edges, the words paining him to speak, "If I give up my vows, what do I live for? When everything I want is…" He didn't manage the words out loud, but in his head, he screamed them. Everything he wanted was so wonderfully good, but so desperately out of reach.

"Is what?" she breathed, her voice full of wonder. Edward stared at the floor, tears shimmering, unshed in his eyes. He didn't want to cry, not again, but Mina had this way of opening him up, laying him out and flooding light onto all the broken bits of him that he'd hoped he could forget out of existence. He jumped slightly, as he felt her hands on his cheeks, soft and warm. They nudged the tears from his eyes and sent them spilling down his cheeks.

"Edward." She said his name with all the reverence of a prayer. "You don't have to do this." He tried to pull away, but her tiny hands held his face in place, her little finger rubbing against the stubble along his jaw. "You will listen to me, Commander," she said sternly.

"Mina, I have no choice. I'm a killer, it's what I do, all I know how to do. Where would I go? You want me to take war to Tharin? Fight for freedom? What is it you want me to be?" He was mocking her, he couldn't help it though, she spoke of things like there were no consequences as if he could just leave, and no one would care.

"Be with me," she said it with such confidence, with such certainty. He gulped, his heart hammering away in his chest, eyes widening as he took in her blushing face with wonder, realising what it meant, how she felt about him. The idea of it both enthralled and petrified him.

She seemed uncomfortable as she continued, he could feel her pulse, jumping out a speedy rhythm in her fingertips.

"I know I haven't seen all that you have or known the same horrors. But-but I know how I feel, and I know it is not a lie. You're a good man, Edward, I see that in everything you say. You care, a killer would not care. You have the heart to make a difference, you just have to believe that you are more than what a king's vow made you."

"You don't know what you're saying. You are young, you know little of me my lady, my lady. You cannot possibly know how you feel."

"Do not presume to tell me what I do and do not feel." To emphasize her point she stepped closer, her chest brushing against his. "I _know_ how I feel, Edward," their breath mingled together in the cold, "I may as well have known you forever." And then she was kissing him, her warm lips pressed against his with a fierce determination that was so Mina. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her, only letting them flutter open when she pulled away.

She was nervous, unsure, but standing her ground. And Edward wanted her, wanted her so badly it hurt. He slipped his arms around her waist, yanking her closer. She gasped and it tasted like hope, like goodness, and all the fragile little things he'd dreamed of since he'd met her. He slanted his head, deepening the kiss, desperate to taste more. He could feel her own heart beating wildly along with his, could feel the chill leaving him as her long fingers threaded through his hair. He shivered as she tugged at the strands. He wanted to hold onto her forever, but the guilt muscled between them, sinking into the tiny open spaces, and taunting him. The face of the dead child flashed behind his closed eyes, and he instantly pulled away, yanking her tiny hands out of his hair, and stepping back.

"I can't do this." His voice was hoarse as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I don't understand," Mina answered. Edward stared at her and bit back a groan. She looked incredible; her chest rising and falling as she sucked in air, lips red and swollen from the kiss, puckered in confusion, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glassy, pupils blown till only a thin hint of green lay around them. He almost gave in and kissed her again.

"This," He pointed between them. "I cannot let this happen."

"Can't or won't." He could hear the anger growing in her voice again, and although he hated it, he knew it was necessary.

"Both." She recoiled, hurt tugging her lips down.

"But, why?"

"You are young, this is, this is just an infatuation, and I do not care for it." He winced at how unconvincing he sounded, he wasn't going to fool anyone, especially her.

"Young? We are almost the same age. This is not an infatuation, Edward, you know it isn't, you're a terrible liar." She was stepping into his space again, reaching for him.

"I am not lying." He tried again, his eyes begging her to just accept it, but she didn't. Her hands were in his hair, lips pressing kisses against his, with hope, with desperation.

"You are. I know you feel the way I do," she muttered, between kisses. He wanted to give up again, he knew it would be easy, and he knew she would follow him anywhere. She was right, of course, she was right. He cared for her more deeply than he had ever cared for anyone or anything. She was everything he wanted to live and die for, his new vow, and he had to keep her safe.

He gripped her shoulders, pushing her back gently but purposefully. "I killed a child, yesterday." He felt sick as he spoke the words, sicker when her delicate hands left his face and fell to her side. She searched his face as if she were looking at a stranger.

"What?"

"Tharin...Tharin ordered me to kill him, so I did." He kept his face stony, even as Mina began to cry, drawing away from him even more. He reminded himself, over and over, that it was the only way to save her.

"You're lying, you must be. You...you wouldn't do that, Edward. I know you."

"I stabbed him in the throat and waited till he bled out." Mina let out a strangled cry, her hand covering her open mouth. "You see, my lady, you do not know me, and I will not, ever, be with you."

"Why are you saying these things?" She sobbed, shaking her head and trying to reach out to him again, her fingers grasping pathetically at air when he stepped out the way. She stared at him for a long time, before straightening her back, her face seeming to harden with resolve. He knew it wouldn't take long, she was a proud woman and grovelling and begging were well beneath her. His heart ached though, for he knew it was the end before anything had remotely begun and if she had begged, he would have given up in an instant.

"Very well, Commander, I apologise for wasting your time. Good day." And with that, she walked away. Edward watched her go, sinking to his knees and sobbing. He knew he would never get another chance with her, never be able to have the happiness he so desperately craved, but he figured he deserved it. After all the lives he had taken, he guessed this was simply justice.

Draco watched the floor change, quickly brushing the tears from his cheeks, and climbing to his feet. He rubbed his chest, wincing a little as his heart still ached with Edwards pain. It felt as if someone were going at it with the cruciatus curse. He glanced around, noticing that Hermione stood a little way off, her back to him.

"Granger?" Whatever progress he'd made walking towards her instantly stopped when she turned to face him. She looked a little like Mina had; lips red and swollen, flushed cheeks painted with tears, brown eyes glinting in the candlelight. She looked beautiful, the realisation punching him squarely in the gut and sending him reeling back a couple of steps. With wide eyes, she slowly lifted her fingers to her lips, as if she could still feel something there.

He wasn't an idiot, not by a long shot, but it took him an embarrassingly long time to work out why Hermione look so shocked, so worried. Once he'd blinked past the obvious shock of her looking attractive the whole horror of the situation dawned on him, sending him running for the door and into the dark corridors. He didn't stop till he reached the door to the dungeons, pressing his forehead against the wood as he let the reality of his situation sink in. He'd had an inkling, a tiny glimmer that something not entirely Slytherin and Malfoy was bouncing about in his head and it had only seemed to get more pronounced when he'd sat across the table from her and watch her happily demolish a bowl full of ice cream. But now he was certain; certain it was worrying, certain that the whole messy thing was unexpected, and certain that it was not something he'd ever thought of dealing with, but there it was. He was certain because the thought of kissing the know-it-all hadn't filled him with terror, or disgust. Quite the opposite, for one queasy, unreal moment, he'd wanted it.


	17. Always on My Mind

"Argh, will you two just stop it." Hermione snapped, turning furiously to look over her shoulder at Seamus and Ron, who had been discussing (rather loudly) the nuances of Quidditch for a good half hour. Though her outburst was partly to do with their lack of thought for anyone who might be studying, the other part was to vent some of the annoyance she had been harbouring towards a certain blonde Slytherin.

"All right, all right, keep your hair on," Ron muttered, leaning toward Seamus and whispering something under his breath that made the boy laugh.

Hermione ignored them tucking her legs underneath her and blinking down at her book and heaving a sigh when the only words she could seem to focus on were potential insult she could hurl at Malfoy when she next saw his ferrety face. Billywig sting slime. Bundimun secretion, that was a good one, gross and adequately explicit. More than enough to show her disapproval at him having, once again, run away nearly leaving her trapped in the room with the Sensieve as all the candles snuffed themselves out. She gripped her book harder, guilty glancing around at the other Gryffindors, certain that they would be able to somehow read her thoughts, because him running away wasn't the only thing that had infuriated her, it was the fact that for a moment she'd actually thought the blonde had looked a little less than disgusting. Maybe even a little nice.

The very idea of it made her certain that she was, in some way or another, losing her mind. It would explain so much. Especially him smiling, and laughing, and her thinking how nice it was that they could talk, that they could get on. And then the memory, the kiss. It had been incredible, the intensity of it making her knees shake, and then the hurt, that had felt like a wound opening up in her gut, spilling sadness. It had left her confused, disorientated. That was her excuse, that was why her breath had caught in her throat at the sight of him. That was why she'd thought his hair, usually neat, looked so much better all mussed, sticking up in different directions, as if someone had run their fingers all the way through it. Why she'd looked at his lips and thought they looked redder than usual and why she'd wondered what they would taste like. Hermione blushed deeply as she remembered.

They had both experienced every other memory of Mina and Edward, obviously acting them out in some way, which meant only one thing; they had kissed. Not of their own volition, but it had happened. She knew she shouldn't have been entirely surprised by Malfoy's reaction to the whole thing given his track record; finding the Sensieve – he'd ran away, old family heirloom - he'd ran away, possibly may or may not have kissed due to Sensieve's magic, shock and horror, he'd had it away on his toes as quickly as he could. She wouldn't have been at all surprised if the cowardly ferret took it upon himself to never see or talk to her again, given the level of over-reaction she'd come to expect from him.

Hermione shook her head pushing thoughts of the blonde out of her head and closing her potions book. Gently she picked up the brown leather book that sat at her side that had been sitting happily at her side. It was large and dusty, gold letters glittering on its cover stating that tome contained information relating to _Old Magic._ The wand they'd found hadn't worked for her and in spite of her certainty that she was just as magical as the next witch or wizard, a niggle of doubt had crept into her mind, a doubt – she reminded herself – that had been planted there entirely by Draco Malfoy. Of course, her search for information had been relatively uninformative, but she hoped that whatever force had stopped her from being able to cast _Lumos_ that night would be explained.

"Hey, Hermione." Hermione jumped, the cover of the book falling back into place with a dull thump. Harry flopped onto the sofa next to her; his hair an unruly mess, bags sitting heavily under his eyes. She sighed, her head tipping sympathetically towards the boy. Preparing for the second task was proving harder than any of them had imagined. Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

"Find anything?" She asked, her fingers tracing the gold lettering of her book. Harry shook his head, removing his glasses, and rubbing his eyes with a wince.

"No, all the words just started blending together. I never want to see another book, again." Hermione laughed lightly, drawing her own book closer to her chest in a half-hearted attempt to hide it from view. She didn't want Harry knowing that she hadn't been helping. As much as she wanted to find answers for her friend, she had so many of her own questions.

"Hermione?" She turned and looked at Harry, he was staring into the fire, a frown of confusion creasing his forehead. "Can I... Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." she turned slightly, so she was facing him more, her eyes boring into the side of his face expectantly.

"It's just that...this is going to sound weird," he muttered, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt.

"Oh, spit it out, Harry, the suspense is killing me." She started laughing, but it died in her throat when her friend didn't join in.

"Last night…Last night I went to the Library, you know to do research," Hermione nodded, but her heart was already speeding up in her chest, worry knotting in her stomach uncomfortably. "It was really late, but...but I swear - I know this sounds crazy but, I could hear you and...and Malfoy. You were arguing, and when I went to investigate, you'd-you'd just vanished." A fire crackled noisily in the silence that followed, making Hermione jump slightly. "I know, it's crazy right?"

"That's...that's impossible," she breathed, hoping her face wouldn't betray her, "I wasn't anywhere near the Library last night, let alone, Malfoy." The words felt weird on her tongue, she didn't know if she'd ever get used to lying to her friends.

"It must have been a dream, or, or something, I don't know. When I'm not searching for answers to this stupid task, I'm trying to avoid that Skeeter woman or Potter stinks badges." Hermione rubbed his arm gently. The year had been a hard one for Harry, people hadn't liked him at all, and while a select few were always that way, there was a good proportion of the student body, that had always admired him, worshipped him even.

"I just don't understand what I did…"

"You've got your broom round your head, mate. He is not the best seeker, I know plenty of wizards that could outfly him." Ron shouted back at Seamus, falling in between Harry and Hermione, oblivious to the conversation he'd just interrupted.

"Name one," Seamus shouted back, standing up and heading across the common room, to where the three of them sat. A long silence followed, "See you can't can you?"

"Harry, he's a damn good seeker, probably the best." Harry sunk into his chair, as Ron pointed at him.

"He's only played for a school team, we're talking…"

"Just ignore him, He's got a serious man-crush on your boyfriend, Hermione, it's not pretty." Hermione sighed, becoming rigid as Ron elbowed her in the side. Sometimes she wondered what it was she saw in Ron, he had no tact.

"He is not my boyfriend, and I'm pretty certain that you, up until recently, were fawning over him." Ron's face went the colour of his hair, as Seamus laughed triumphantly.

"That's beside the point, I've seen him now, for what he truly is." Hermione rolled her eyes, opening her book out on her lap, and pretending not to hear him.

Hermione scowled down at the words as they jumbled into an unfathomable mess. With a shake of her head she straightened her shoulders, she would not let the possibility of her having kissed Malfoy bother her. Thoughts of him were futile, especially considering she was almost certain that she never so much as crossed the blonde's mind.

Draco banged the table in front of him angrily, hoping the noise would shock thoughts of a bushy-haired Gryffindor, out of his head. He lowered his head as Madame Pince shot him a particularly fierce look and told him to be quiet.

"So, you want to tell me what the table did?" Blaise asked wearily, glancing up from the work he'd been pretending to complete. "I'm sure it will apologise if you ask nicely." Draco ignored his friend's sarcasm, choosing instead to rub his eyes.

Pansy, whose eyes had been following a confused looking, Viktor Krum around, glanced at the pair, her feet propped up on the table, arms crossed. "What's bugging him?" she nodded towards the blonde, one brown eyebrow rising in confusion.

"I think the table did something," muttered Blaise, staring down at the blank paper in front of him, deciding finally to attempt the title.

"Something's been on your mind recently, what is it?" she asked in her usual abrupt and assertive away. She lifted her legs of the table, leaning forward and staring at him expectantly.

"Nothing, Parkinson, now leave me alone," Draco muttered, dropping his face into the palms of his hands.

"Ooo, last names, someone's getting defensive." Pansy squealed happily, shimmying even closer, she poked his arm once, then twice, "So what is it?" The third time, Draco shifted away, glaring at her angrily.

"Parkinson, I told you to drop it."

"You guys heard, that didn't you?" Pansy asked, looking pointedly at Theo and Blaise for backup.

"Oh, I heard it," Blaise commented, an evil grin growing on his handsome features.

"Heard what?" Draco asked witheringly, he didn't have the energy for their games.

"You used the voice." Theo cut in, shutting the book he'd been reading, and turning to his friend.

"I don't have a 'voice'." He argued, crossing his arms, and inspecting the rest of the library, wishing he was one of the lucky students who got to study alone.

"Yeah you do, you use it when you want to get your way, or when you've got something to hide, so...what is it Draco?" Pansy wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Draco cringed. The stupid brown-haired witch had a way of mindreading. Whenever there was something on anyone's mind, she would chip away, until finally, she weaselled it out of them, cackling maniacally at her brilliance.

"Why must there be something to hide, I could just want a bit of that elusive thing called, I don't know, _privacy_." He emphasised the word privacy, trying to highlight how much, he didn't want Pansy barking up that particular tree, but she ignored him, snuffling away like she usually did, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"It's women mate, it's always, 'what are you thinking?', 'why did you do that?' Crazy the lot of them...ow." Blaise rubbed his arm tenderly where Pansy had slapped him, shooting her an incredulous look. "And what was that for?"

"How someone who has so little experience with women could have such stellar insights is beyond me." Pansy bit out sarcastically, looking down her nose at the boy sat next to her.

"I do alright, thank you very much."

"He pulls them all with those classic compliments about their craziness, makes them all go wild."

"Stay out of this Nott," Blaise spat.

"Ooo, now who's been defensive."

Draco rolled his eyes, turning away and letting his friends carry on fighting. It was a common occurrence; Blaise would say something - usually bigoted in nature – Pansy would hit him, throwing some barbed comment his way and Theo would whip out the biggest shit stirring spoon ever known to wizarding kind and make the whole thing escalate to astoundingly violent heights. He'd counted his blessings that Pansy's attention was away from him. She was like a bloodhound; anything secret, anything she did not need to know, and she would sniff it out. A couple of prods, some well-placed questions and he'd be spilling the beans, telling her all about the memories and his crazy thoughts of Granger. He'd probably have a mental break down and then she'd hex him for good measure.

He rubbed his eyes again, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table, the nearest wall. He had a problem, a big problem; a problem on the scale of the world ending, and everyone dying. The how and why were still desperately hazy; he'd thought about potions, about hexes, heck his mind had even strayed into the realms of muggle mental disorders, but none of them quite explained his predicament. The what was, Hermione Know-It-all-and-tell-you-all-about-it-in-infuriatingly-boring-detail Granger.

The little Gryffindor was incessantly on his mind, chirping in her I-know-better-than-you voice, her lips all swollen and tantalisingly red from…He smacked his head quickly, groaning partly from pain, the other, rather large part, being sheer embarrassment. He silently begged Salazar for strength. The muggle memories were turning him into a flamboyant mess on par with Gilderoy Lockhart. He questioned whether he could even call himself Slytherin, especially with the feelings that were bouncing around in his stomach. He could see it all in terrible clarity, he'd be demoted to Hufflepuff, forced to bear the eternal shame of caring and feeling things.

"You alright there, Drake?" Theo asked, turning to Draco a maniacal grin on spread across his face. He wasn't surprised, Pansy and Blaise's foreheads were almost touching as they tried to have the quietest most ferocious argument known to the library without attracting the wrath of Madame Pince.

"Just fine." _I want to kiss a mudblood to see what it feels like._ "Just…" The fact that he didn't finish his explanation seemed not to bother Theo in the slightest, as he was once again putting his galleon worth into the argument that had somewhat simmered down in his absence.

Draco wondered if curling himself up into a ball would be enough to hide away from his thoughts. He supposed there was always obliviate, he could zap the feelings right out of his head, and no one would be any the wiser. Apart from Granger. His shoulders slumped as he realised that any potential solution to his pesky problem would probably be reversed in a matter of library visits by none other than the smartest witch at the school. Of all the people he could have found the Sensieve with, it had to be her.

Draco concentrated on his friend's faces, wondering if he really could open up and talk to them about it. He almost hoped that the mere act of formulating the words would make him realise just how utterly ridiculous it all was. But given their current situation of hurling, what had devolved to, puerile insults at one another, he guessed that any such admission on his part would be met with the same. He definitely would get anything productive from them. Even Pansy, who happened to be the most mature friend that Draco had, only rose to that position of note, due to Tweedle Zabini and Tweedle Nott setting the bar so famously low. Telling her would have been slightly on par with Avadaring himself in the face; not a good idea and bound to end in his ultimate demise.

"I think it's a girl." Draco had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realised the argument had finally concluded and that Pansy was glaring at him, her eyes searching his face as if she could see his secrets in the pores of his skin. A lump of worry lodged itself in Draco's throat.

"What?" He spat snootily, hoping it would sound convincingly unimpressed.

"You know, those skirt-wearing beings that are always throwing themselves at you? I think one of them has caught your eye." Her eyes glinted happily, "Is it Daphne? Is it? Is it?"

"What?" Draco scrunched up his nose. He could vaguely recollect some conversation with Pansy about the blonde, but other than that, Daphne hadn't crossed his mind.

"You know, Daphne. Oh, please let me set you up, you guys would have such cute babies."

"Woah, cupid, drop the bow and step away from the arrows. Babies? Does your sex think of anything else?" Pansy's nostrils flared angrily, as she looked at Blaise.

"Will you shut up." And they were arguing again, Theo sitting back with an amused expression that suggested he was impressed with how the argument had erupted without even the slightest bit of help from him.

Draco sat back, freezing in place when he noticed Hermione wandering through the library doors. Her nose was buried in her book and her hair looked bushier than normal. A small smile curled on his lips as he watched her nearly walk into another student studying, an adorable blush glowing on her cheeks as she apologised. He started suddenly, pulling himself out of whatever daze he'd fallen into, the gravity of his situation threatening to tug his head to the surface of the table. He wondered if the blow would knock some sense in.

"Mudblood alert," Pansy stated, watching Hermione make herself comfy at a small table. Krum immediately rushed to join her, seating himself next to her and smiling rather vacantly to himself as she read. Draco felt uncomfortable, something undefinable stabbing its way into his gut. "I don't know what he sees in her." Draco bit back a retort, swallowing it with effort, determined he would not sink to the level of defending the Know-it-all.

"Well it's not like she's ugly, is it?" Blaise shrugged. Both Pansy and Theo stared at him for a few seconds, before the brown-haired boy girl leant forward, narrowing her eyes.

"Something you want to tell us, Blaise?"

"What, it's true. You guys saw her at the Yule Ball, aesthetically she's not bad to look at, doesn't mean I'm going to touch that with a ten-foot wand though does it?"

"Pft, he wishes." Theo chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to his book, ignoring the evils Theo was shooting him across the table.

Perhaps that was it, he couldn't believe he hadn't though of it before. Even Edward had practically waved it in his face; just infatuation. It was highly plausible, all those memories, all those feeling that weren't his own and then Granger just being there mixed up in it all. It stood a good chance that half of what he felt wasn't even him to begin with. Maybe he'd realised she didn't look entirely like the back end of a Blast-Ended-Skrewt and all the other feelings were just confusing things.

Pansy's mouth was open in shock, "You cannot be serious?"

"As dragon pox, there's no way he has a…"

"I was talking to Blaise." Pansy ground out.

"Well, he has a point." Nott shrugged, smirking at how quick Pansy's head whipped around.

"What?!"

"Admit it, she looked good. Anyone could see that."

"You cannot be…Draco." Draco looked up quickly, his mouth opening and closing slowly. He hadn't been listening, too lost in what Blaise had said to pay attention.

"What?" he muttered, blushing as he realised thoughts of Granger had, once again, tugged him out of the real world.

"Don't tell me, you've got a crush on the mudblood too," she scoffed, crossing her arms.

Draco stood quickly, his grey eyes flaring in panic and anger. "For the last time Parkinson, I don't like anyone. So, leave me alone and keep your pug nose out of my business."

"Pug wha…" Pansy said, her fingers groping at her nose, to check that it was still the same shape as before, then she looked up and watched her friend storm away, banging the library door shut behind him.

"My nose isn't pug, right?"

"Well, that was…" Theo began.

"Weird." Blaise finished, dropping his quill on the page in front of him.

"Guys?"

"Wonder what got his ovaries in a bunch?" Theo commented, then he looked across at Pansy. 'You shouldn't bother him so much you know, albinos are notoriously volatile."

"This is not my fault," Pansy said indignantly.

'Yeah, well it kind of looks that way, doesn't it?' Blaise countered and Pansy was hitting him again. With a chuckle, Theo went back to reading, not before noticing, that Granger was leaving the library in a hurry too.


	18. The Astronomy Tower

Draco sat on the window ledge, the cold soaking into his thighs as he stared at the stone floor, elbows resting on his knees. He wanted to crawl up inside himself, then try crawling up inside himself again. He'd overreacted that much was clear if the look of pure shock plastered almost comically across his friends' faces were anything to go by. Pansy would corner him, of that he was certain. She'd sidle up, and ask all manner of personal questions, before finding out his secret. He would be named and shamed, hexed and hated. Then sent into banishment, where he would forever spend the rest of his days cursing Granger and her stupid name. Draco groaned into his hands forlornly, wondering if he could get hold of a time turner.

"Malfoy?" He groaned again at the sound of her voice, hoping that it was just an illusion brought on by his recent bout of crazy.

"You're not real, I'm imagining things," He muttered to himself, wincing when he felt the tell-tale thrum of magic that permeated the air whenever she was around. No such luck.

"Malfoy…" Hermione hesitated, tipping her head to the side in concern. She'd spotted Malfoy when he'd had his little outburst and for reasons completely unknown to her, she had decided to follow him. The Gryffindor bravery that had been at her heel, urging her forward had now somehow dissipated and she was at a loss as what to do or say. She was all too aware of what had happened the last time they had seen each other, and though she had convinced herself it didn't matter, being in his presence again made her think that somehow it did, it really did.

"Malfoy, we need to…" The blonde stood up quickly, picking his bag up from off the floor and stalking past her.

"Leave me alone, Granger." Hermione bristled, keeping pace with him as he stormed down the corridor.

"We need to talk." She could not believe that in spite of everything he still managed to her annoy her with just a few words.

"There's nothing to talk about." Draco sped up, wondering if he could just attempt to apparate, how bad could it realistically go?

"Yes, there is Malfoy, and you know there is." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Why can't you just…fine, what is it your bushy hairdness would like to talk about now? About fighting for all the wishy-washy goodness in the world? Perhaps you've come to tell me that my distaste for our little conversations about all things nice and flowery, is actually due to my repressed desire to become a hero? Spoiler alert, Granger, you're wrong."

"Would you just stop," Hermione huffed, once again falling behind, "Stop being a prat and just-just listen. It's about last night." Draco stopped suddenly, and Hermione stumbled so as not to bump into him.

"You want to talk about last night? Okay, here's a rundown," Draco started walking again, but slower this time, wanting Hermione to hear every word. "You, being the particular brand of touchy Gryffindor, that you are, got all up in arms, when I, being realistic,"

"Pratish more like," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Told you a few home truths."

"They were not truths…they were - look I'm not here to argue you with you."

"Then don't." He shrugged and without missing a beat, continued, "Then - for reasons entirely to do with your proclivity for sticking your snout where it doesn't belong - a bowl plucked us from the library and dumped us in someone else's memory. And then, guess what Granger?" He stopped, turning to look at her, his grey eyes glimmering, making her breath catch.

"What?" she asked, cursing herself when she realised how breathless she sounded.

"Nothing - and I'm going to repeat this, just in case, you missed it like you do everything else - nothing else happened. You hear me, nothing." Draco concentrated on his own words, hoping that if he said it enough, then it might be true. He knew it was hopeless when he felt guilty at the hurt that flashed across her face before being replaced with a look of sheer determination.

"Harry saw us," Hermione said, the words leaving her mouth like a sigh. For a moment Draco just stared at her, wondering vaguely if she'd noticed him staring at her lips, thanking Merlin that she'd spoken before he'd done something really stupid.

"What?" He spluttered.

"Well more like he heard us," Hermione lifted her bag strap further up her shoulder, trailing behind the Slytherin as he began walking listlessly down the corridor, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Damn, Potty, why does he have to get involved with everything?" He mumbled, shouldering past some first years, who'd been stupid enough to wander in front of him, Hermione shot them a sympathetic smile as she passed.

"Oh, real mature, Malfoy," Hermione scoffed, following him up a stairwell, realising that he was heading up to the astronomy tower, "and it's not like he specifically followed us, he was researching. He said he heard voices that sounded like you and me, went to investigate, but, poof," she opened her hand in mid-air, as she said it, "we'd gone."

Hermione looked up as she bumped into Malfoy, who'd paused on the steps shooting her an amused smirk, over his shoulder. "Poof? Is that the er, technical term?" He questioned, raising one eyebrow, barely containing the laughter. Hermione stared down at her feet self-consciously.

"It's a figure of speech" she mumbled, annoyed at herself when she felt the burn of a blush on her cheeks.

"And I have a secret fetish for unicorns," He said dryly.

"Well, that's not beyond the realms of possibility. Is it the horn?" Draco squinted his eyes in annoyance and carried on climbing the steps, trying to ignore the churning in the pit of his stomach. She'd looked so nice, and he'd thought how easy it would be just to close the space between them. Just once, just to find out what the fascination was with biting that bottom lip all the time.

"Either way, we'd gone," Hermione continued, still grinning at her joke.

"Soo, what did you tell him?"

Hermione shrugged, "I told him I wasn't anywhere near the library, or you, for that matter." Hermione sucked in fresh air as they made it to the top of the astronomy tower, the wind blowing ferociously, grey clouds rumbling angrily in the sky. The Astronomy tower was always so quiet on a stormy day, the cold weather chasing any would be stragglers inside. Hermione would always brave the elements just to have space to herself, watching forks of lightning crackle across the sky and stab into the ground in a flash of light. In the wonder of it all, the usual thoughts that plagued her mind on a daily basis fell silent.

"And Potty just believed you?" Draco asked, leaning against the railings of the tower and pinning her with a grey stare, the same colour as the clouds.

"I'm not in the habit of lying, Malfoy," she muttered, realising the hypocrisy of her statement considering she had, in fact, lied to Harry. She gripped the iron railing focusing on the bite of cold against her palm.

"Hmm, I've always believed that myself, but here we are several lies and rule breakings later and not so much as a hint of heart palpitation."

'Correct me if I'm wrong,' Hermione said, turning her head to look at him, as he mirrored her actions; gripping the rail and looking out at the rain that was falling in great heavy sheets, "but that almost sounded like you, a Malfoy, admitting you were wrong about something. This could actually be the end of the world. We have the weather for it I suppose."

"Oh, ha-ha, Granger," Draco said, rolling his eyes before meeting her gaze, "congratulations on making a funny." In spite of his sarcasm, Hermione smiled, puffing out her chest with pride. "Besides,' he shrugged, "admitting I'm wrong in order to prove you are in fact a liar, still in line with the Malfoy code, the end justifies the means."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Hermione muttered.

"That would be a stuffed unicorn.' His eyes glittered, a grin chasing dimples into his cheeks, that only grew as Hermione started giggling. He made a grand display of sauntering to the other side of the tower when thoughts of how adorable she looked stifling her giggles threatened drastic actions such as flinging himself off the tower.

"So, what is the point in all this, Granger. We going to have to take out Potter, does he know too much?" Hermione sobered at his words, tapping the cold metal under her hands awkwardly.

"Harry says that he believes me, but I know him, he probably knows that something's up."

"Soooo?"

"So, I was thinking, that…that if we were going to meet, then we'd have to be careful about it." Draco's heart hammered in his chest; she wanted to meet him, wanted to spend time with him. The idea of it made him happy and disgusted all at once, unsure of how to react, he scoffed.

"You sure you want to spend time with? Remember I'm not as drastically heroic as Potty." He spat, he wanted it to sound harsh, but it didn't, it sounded more like a challenge, and as always, she rose to the occasion.

"Wha...you're still banging on about that? Slytherins are so petty," she said incredulously, shaking her head.

"And Gryffindors - one, in particular, naming and shaming, you - are insufferable." he pointed at her, shooting her a smug smirk as she scowled at him. Draco died a little inside when he realised that the wrinkle in her nose looked decidedly cute.

"So, you've said, like a thousand times," she answered wearily.

"And yet it still hasn't sunk in. I wonder why that is?" Draco tapped his chin in mock thought, "is it the bushy mane of, what you like to call, hair, or the overinflated sense of know-it-allness, that drowns out the noise?"

"No, it's my Ferrity Prat Filter, FPF for short, gets rid of all the white noise tossers like you make." the statement left him both stunned and impressed.

"Touché, Granger. There's Slytherin in you yet." The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and he watched in horror as they made her smile.

"Nope, it's all Gryffindor. You jealous?" she said looking rather smug.

Draco nearly recoiled when he realised that she was flirting with him, and she was doing it because he'd started it. What had been his desperate attempt at arguing had turned into playful jabs, and she'd bitten back. He hated how much he loved it, how much he wanted to carry on doing it. She surprised him constantly and he was finding it hard to think past how amazing her smile looked, and how it would only take once, just once to find out what she tasted…

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I've been doing some research." Her words tugged him back into reality, and he watched as she knelt down searching through her school bag.

"So, trying something new, then?" he commented dryly, unable to stop himself from grinning when she shot him an irritated look. It didn't take long before she was stepping towards him, offering up a leather-bound book. He turned, letting the cool metal dig into his back, as he leant against the railings lazily, taking the book from her. Old magic was scrawled across the front in gold. Hesitantly he began flicking through the tome, he'd never heard of such a thing before, but, to his continual annoyance, it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that Granger would have unearthed something about magic that he'd had no idea existed.

"Old magic, it's...incredible. Magic has always been powerful but from what this book describes what we know of spells today is nothing compared to what they used to be like." Draco noted the wonder in her voice, staring up at her, distracted momentarily by the glimmer of awe in her brown eyes. He gulped and looked back down at the book, trying to concentrate on the words. "Apparently wands were made specifically for a wizard, their blood used in the crafting process, that's probably why the wand we found reacted to you the way it did."

"Written by Liptious Lipitiboo." Draco gave her a pointed look. Hermione scowled brushing off his amused stare. She knew all about Liptious Lipitiboo, a pseudonym for a wizard that took it upon himself to cover all the conspiracies that the wizarding world had to offer, writing very in-depth and ultimately pointless texts that were based on almost no evidence.

"I know- I know, but how else do you explain what happened. It has to mean something, even if he is way off what if this conspiracy was, I don't know, based on some fact. It's all we've got to go on. I thought that we could try some spells, maybe get you used to using it. You'll notice that while some are the same, there are hexes and curses that require different forms."

"You expect any of these to work?"

"It's worth a try, surely." Draco sighed, wondering how she could always be so exhaustingly hopeful. It appeared that nothing, not even logic could dissuade her once she got an idea in her head. Hermione turned the pages for him, grinning as she pointed out spells that seemed vaguely familiar, but they sounded different and the movement of the wand was unfamiliar. His heart gave a squeeze when he realised how much it all meant to her. He stayed quiet, not trusting himself to speak.

"I thought with Harry sniffing around, we could meet during the second task."

"What about Potty?"

"What about him?" Hermione asked, defensively.

"Well you know, taking part in said second task, may or may not become the boy who lived to die. Just so happens to be your bosom buddy?"

Hermione stared at her shoes sheepishly. She did feel guilty, as soon as she'd had the idea, she'd felt terrible. But being with Malfoy meant she might get to return to the Sensieve, might find out more about Mina and Edward's story, and weirdly, spending time with him wasn't as bad as she'd initially thought.

"I'm going to help him prepare, give him everything he needs. Look if you don't think it's a good idea, we don't have to do it."

Draco stared at the book in his hands, wondering what his father would say if he knew where he was, who he was talking to, what he was thinking. Pulling himself together and telling her that she could shove her idea up her prissy little arse seemed like the only option. But he just couldn't do it, not when he looked up at her and saw her brown eyes gazing into his with hope.

"Okay," He mumbled. All the thoughts of his father, of what was right and wrong and telling her that she could forget her idea flew out into the storm and were irrelevant, inconsequential, fading into absolute nothingness because she was smiling at him.


	19. Enemies

"Attacked by a crazy turbaned professor," Pansy pointed at her finger meaningfully.

"Professor Quirrell," Theo added, muttering past a mouth full of mash. Pansy waved of his suggestion, barely missing a beat.

"Almost gets eaten by a freeze-you-in-place-with-a-stare snake, just casually kicking back beneath Hogwarts, who like, no one had even bothered with for ages."

"Basilisk," Theo added helpfully, receiving an angry glance from the brown-haired witch.

"Not to mention nearly getting everything sucked out through his nostrils, by those sucky face, skeletal things."

"Dementors," Blaise corrected past his laughter. Pansy quickly slapped his arm and carried on with her tirade, ignoring his whines of protest.

"Is almost crushed by the huge flailing tree."

"The whomping willow." Blaise gave Theo an incredulous look when he managed to comment, unscathed.

"Are these in chronological order because I'm pretty sure you're little off…"

"Shut up Zabini. Then bang, his name pops out of a fancy cup."

"The Goblet of fire? Did you seriously just call the goblet of fire a fancy cup?" Theo practically screeched.

"She's worse than a muggle…ow. Why aren't you hitting him?"

"He flies away from a dragon, dives into a freezing cold lake, full of Merlin knows what, and gets crowned king of the fish people."

"Mermaids, Pansy, they're Mermaids." Theo put his fork down, deciding food could wait, in light of Pansy's stupidity.

"I'm surprised it was a dragon and not a winged lizard...Seriously Pans, this is verging on abuse.' Pansy, paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"My point is,"

"Oh, so there is a point then...don't hit me." Blaise put his hands up.

"You will sit next to her."

"My point is," Pansy spoke louder, trying to drown out the noise of her friend, "he just won't die."

"Well, that's dark, even for you."

"Oh, come one, anyone else in a similar situation would have been dead ten times over."

"Hmm, compelling argument, especially from someone who doesn't know the Goblet of Fires a _ctual_ name."

"How did he not get hit for that?" Pansy waved off Blaise's complaint and leaned across the table.

"I have a theory," she whispered conspiratorially. Blaise groaned by her side.

"This isn't your ghost theory again is it?" Pansy turned to him quickly.

"It's possible."

"Pans for the last time, Harry Potter is not a ghost."

"Now hold up there, Zabini, she might have a point." Theo cautioned holding up his hand, his face stony.

"You cannot be serious?"

"The famous Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Us-All actually having everyone fooled and being dead the whole time? I'm absolutely serious. Miss Parkinson may be on to a winner."

"You are just a shit stir…"

"See, I told you, Blaise. It _is_ possible."

"So, what do you intend to do with this piece of enlightenment?" Theo bit back a chuckle at the glare Blaise was sending his way.

"You know, I hadn't thought about it."

"Perhaps you should."

"It's alright for you, she doesn't drag you along on her crazy delusions…ow."

"Well you don't have to be bothered with my crazy delusions this time, Theo will go with me, won't you Theo?" Theo hesitated, noticing the dark look Blaise was cutting him,. Raising one eyebrow languidly, he continued.

"Oh, I don't know Pans, it seems…"

Draco fell heavily into the chair next to him, halting whatever the brown hair wizard had to say by knocking over his cup full of pumpkin juice; it skittered across the table, orange liquid spreading along the brown wood, heading towards Pansy. She squealed, launching herself onto Blaise's lap.

"It's pumpkin juice Pansy, not acid," Blaise muttered, trying to push her back into her own seat.

"Cheers, mate," Theo thanked Draco sarcastically, casting a quick cleaning spell that poured the juice back where it had come from.

"So," Blaise straightened out his robes, "what manner of spiky beast crawled up your arse?"

"Leave it, Zabini." Draco bit out, piling food onto his plate angrily, not bothering to glance up and acknowledge his friends.

The three looked at each other for answers, finding only bewilderment they turned back to the blonde.

"Erm, Draco?" Pansy started nervously, "you okay?"

"Fine, peachy, couldn't be frickin better." Pansy jumped as Draco slammed a bowl of potatoes back on the table, digging his fork viciously into his food.

"So…er...mate, you er wanna talk about it?" Theo pulled his cup of pumpkin juice away slowly, leaning back in his chair.

"No." He was staring daggers at a rather smug group of Gryffindors who were laughing loudly at the other end of the hall.

She hadn't turned up. He'd waited, like an idiot, and she'd not bothered to show her face. He could see her, squashed snugly between Potty and Weasel, hanging off the snivelling Scarface's arm like she hadn't just stood up a Malfoy.

"Where were you today? You missed Potty getting crowned king of the fish people." Pansy chirped away happily, sensing that whatever anger Draco had shown, was back to simmering just beneath the surface.

"Mermaids, Pansy, and he wasn't crowned king of anything. Just awarded points he didn't deserve, for; goodwill, heroic valour, weak pathetic crap. You know, the usual Gryffindor tripe." Blaise muttered, tearing apart some bread, popping a piece in his mouth with a grin.

"I still can't believe the mudblood was Krum's precious object. I mean, precious?" Pansy snorted, flipped her hair over her shoulder as she turned to look at the mudblood in question. "Snotty and know-it-all, without question, but precious? You must be joking." Draco's head shot up.

"What?"

"The bushy-haired know-it-all somehow fooled Krum into thinking that she, of all people, is precious."

"She got put under water for a really long time so that, wonder-Krum could hop in and save her." Blaise translated for Draco, looking far from impressed. The explanation did little to dispel Draco's anger, instead, it was overcome with a burning of jealousy that made him feel sick.

"Do I detect jealousy, Parkinson? Is it your secret dream to be chained underwater, held prisoner by, as you put it, 'fish people', and rescued by your Shark Prince Charming?" Theo mocked, fluttering his eyelashes dreamily.

"Yes, I think it's the least I deserve," Pansy spat over her shoulder, squinting as Hermione let out a loud laugh.

"Well that can be arranged, maybe not the Shark Prince rescuing part, but you know, everything else." Blaise shrugged, grinning evilly as Pansy took a swipe at him.

"I don't know Zabini, I reckon you could grow some gills if the occasion called for it." Theo wiggled his eyebrows at his friend, laughing when Blaise glared at him angrily.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Nott?"

They both jumped as Draco's knife and fork clattered onto his plate.

"What do you suppose it is, with Potter and Krum?" He asked angrily, glaring at the Gryffindor table, not even bothering to meet his friends confused glances.

"What about them?" Pansy asked, confused, glancing between Theo and Blaise as if the two boys could offer some sort of explanation.

"You now the fawning, the damn hero worship?"

'Erm, well with Potty; Gryffindor, boy-who-lived, you know, the reasons why you've always hated him and Krum, well Krum's just dreamy." Pansy shrugged as though it were all very self-explanatory.

"Are you alright, mate?" Theo actually sounded as though he cared a little, his forehead creasing with worry.

"Just the whole-just fed up of this whole Goblet crap, can't get away from it." Blaise nodded, grimacing as he took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Tell me about it, it's all anyone can talk about these days."

"Because it's so awesome!" Theo defended, "I'm sorry Drake but it is, plus, supposing that Pansy's theory is wrong, there stands a chance that Potty might actually pop his hero clogs."

"Ghost theory again." Blaise clarified as Draco turned to turn him confused.

"I'm not having this argument with you again, Zabini, it's possible and you know it."

"Right, of course, I do."

"Do I detect sarcasm, Blaise?" Theo grinned evilly.

"Can you just put that gigantic spoon down for a second?"

"Come on then, let's hear the reasons why you don't think it could be possible." Pansy challenged lifting her nose into the air.

"Seriously? All the reasons. All the logic-based reasons that you could possibly think of."

"That's not an answer, Zabini."

"How is that not an answer? For one Potty is very much alive and by Salazar, if that isn't, the most logical argument to disprove your 'theory' then we are all…"

"Inconsequential don't you think, Pans?"

"Nott, I'm seriously going to…"

"Drake, what's the matter." Both boys turned to face their blonde friend and Pansy tipped her head to the side in concern, her voice cutting through their argument. Water sloshed over the side of his cup as it shook in his grip, his mouth curling into a snarl that looked a little animalistic.

"Er mate, you're gonna dent the cup." Theo reached across to take it from his hands, placing it gently on the table. As if breaking some spell Draco let his head fall into his hands and groaned loudly.

"You know you can talk to us, right?" Pansy leant across the table and gripped Draco's arm sympathetically. With a sigh, he lowered his hands and looked at Pansy.

"It's nothing, just tired, that's all." He wasn't tired. He knew exactly what it was, and the very knowledge made him want to Avada kedavra himself into oblivion. He was jealous, of stupid snot-nosed Potter and 'Wonder-Krum'.

"I'm just going to go."

"We'll- er we'll go with you won't we guys?" Pansy scrambled to her feet looking meaningfully at Blaise and Theo. Eventually, the pair agreed, grumbling under their breath. It was pointless to argue with the witch and they both knew it.

"And then I told him that it just wasn't going to happen, do you know what those spells do to your hair?" Pansy spluttered, turning to a bored looking Blaise.

"No, what do those spells do to your hair?" Blaise repeated in monotone.

"Well, Millicent's hair fell out."

"You sure that was the spell, I mean, no offence, but yeesh." Theo shuddered, pulling a face.

"That's just cruel."

"No, Pans it's true. Millicent, bless her, while possessing many qualities, has always been…"

"Aesthetically challenged." Theo finished.

"Just saying bless her does not make the insult any better."

"Slightly hypocritical considering what you were saying about the Weaselette earlier."

"But she's Ginger!"

"And Millicent is gross."

Draco zoned as they all began arguing again, noticing Hermione with her usual golden friends, Krum sauntering up to them his face all smug. His actions were entirely fuelled by jealousy, pushing him through the crowd till he was stood over her, his nostrils all but flaring with the anger that had been burning in his gut for a good few days.

"Ah if it isn't dick one, dick two and dickette." Harry and Ron turned to him, looking less than impressed. "What happened, Krum, get lost on the way to your fan club?" The seeker looked somewhat confused, muttering something intelligible in Hermione's ear. The bushy-haired-witch shook her head, her eyes boring into Draco's her expression unfathomable.

"Pansy tells me you got crowned king of the fish people, that's something to write home about."

"Go away, Malfoy I don't have the energy for your petty insults." Harry sighed, turning his back on the blonde.

"Yeah ferret, back off." Ron barked, pushing himself off the wall.

"Relax, I'm not here for you. I just came to tell your mudblood friend here, to keep public displays of slobbering to a minimum. My friends and I were feeling a little nauseous." Everyone gathered seemed a little confused, turning inquisitive gazes towards Hermione as she scowled.

"I'd like to know why you and your friends were staring in the first place."

"The sounds of desperation were somewhat deafening." Draco stepped forward angrily.

"Perhaps you should spend less time worrying about what a filthy mudblood is doing, and more time thinking up some better insults."

"Watch your mouth, Mudblood." Pansy spat, stepping the round the back of her friend, Theo and Blaise trailing behind her.

"Letting girls fight your battles now?"

"Whatever Granger, at least I don't hop in and out of bed with 'heroes'. Quite the little love triangle you've drawn yourself, don't you think?" Draco pointed at her, Krum and Harry slowly, smirking down at her.

"Why you little…" Ron rushed forward, only to be held back by Harry.

"Oh, sod off Malfoy," Harry shouted.

"Or what Potty? You gonna let the rabid weasel off his leash?" He gestured lazily at Ron, who was struggling against his friend's arm.

"Let's just go you guys, some people are just not worth the time." Hermione sniffed, grabbing Harry and Ron's arms and pulling them away from the Slytherins.

"Of course, I'm not I don't have selflessness coming out my arse or my own spread in the Daily Prophet," Draco shouted after her.

"Oh, grow up, Malfoy," she muttered over her shoulder. Draco hands clenched at his sides as he shook with anger.

"Stupid…filthy."

"What was that about?" Theo asked. He knew Draco, had known him for the longest time and there was no doubt that his friend was acting strangely.

"Yeah, I mean, I hate the Golden arse's as much as the next person, but that was…"

"Weird." Blaise finished. They all nodded, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Just leave it." Draco muttered. He needed to be alone, needed to get away from his questioning friends and from Hermione and her brown eyes that made him feel things he didn't want to feel, had no right feeling. A bit of distance would make everything better. Ignoring his friend protests he shouldered his way through the crowds before he found a quiet corridor and fell against the wall.

"What the hell was that about?" Her shouting stunned him out of his thoughts, and he watched as an angry Hermione stormed towards him. The sight was annoyingly breath-taking.

"What was what, Mudblood?" He pushed himself off the wall and started lazily walking away.

"Don't you walk away from me. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Will you stop, I'm missing a lesson because of you." Malfoy rolled his eyes, turning back to her.

"Like I care Mudblood."

"What's with that, I thought, I thought things had changed." she breathed, and Draco paused.

"And why would you think that?"

"Because…Because."

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that we arranged to meet up and you decided not to turn up." He spat, stalking away, only to have her follow him.

"Oh, you cannot be serious, that's what this is about. It's not like I deliberately went out of my way not to meet you."

"I really couldn't give a toss, Granger. Now leave me alone."

"Don't lie to me. Why does this upset you so much?" Draco grit his teeth, storming back towards her.

"The only thing that upsets me, you filthy little Mudblood, is the fact that you're still sharing the same breathing space as me," Hermione recoiled, "now go infect someone else's oxygen and leave me alone."

There were tears in her eyes, glimmering on her eyelashes in tiny drops and they made him feel terrible. Like someone had punched him in the gut. But it was necessary, he knew that. No one treated a Malfoy the way she had done and got away with it. He stalked away, thanking all things Merlin that the Sensieve decided to leave them to their hate.


	20. An Apology

Hermione sniffed, letting another letter fall to the floor around her. They'd been arriving all week; dropping in front of her in piles, her name scribbled across them in hastily written hate. They were all as unimaginative and petty in their insults as the next, seeking to undermine her apparent promiscuous personality by referring to her as a man-eating Bundimun, over and over again. She was almost grateful for their obvious lack of originality and imagination because every letter that featured the overused insult instantly lost its sting.

The article Skeeter had so eloquently put together had topped all her previous instalments for its work of sheer fiction. Her hands shook as she thought of the squeaky journalist and her floating quill. She'd thought there was something desperately off with her from the get-go, now it all made sense.

Hermione leant back against the stone steps, letting her shoulders slump. The week, without doubt, had been hard. On top of the hate mail and the general looks of distaste from most of the female population at Hogwarts, there'd been Malfoy or the significant lack of Malfoy. He'd gone back to ignoring her, brushing off all her attempts at communication with a cold demeanour that, surprisingly hurt more than all the insults he'd thrown at her. There was also the issue of the Sensieve; since Malfoy's committal to the cold shoulder they had not been dragged into another memory and the lack of contact was starting to evoke some weird withdrawals that were making it a little difficult to function. The press of its magic in the air was almost suffocating, the sparks it sent her way almost stinging with their insistence. It was worse when she was trying to sleep, thoughts of Mina and Edward, of the infuriating Slytherin, working with the Sensieve's magic, making it impossible for her to find any rest.

On top of everything, she found that she actually missed the blonde. Of course, he went out of his way to make her life a misery, to hurt her as much as possibly could, but there had been those brief and fleeting occasions when he had made her laugh, had challenged her thoughts and beliefs in a way that no one else had. When she thought of the astronomy tower; the grey clouds almost the same colour of his eyes rumbling behind him as he smirked down at her, she couldn't help but smile. She was convinced though that it was yet another strange withdrawal from the Sensieve, it was utterly pathetic and stupid that a couple of occasions of him being nice to her could ever eradicate all of the dickishness that had come before. But there were weak moments and they annoyed her more than the Sensieve-based Insomnia.

"Reading love letters, Granger?" Hermione jumped as she recognised the voice, turning to see Malfoy, walking slowly down the steps towards her. His hair was, as always neatly styled, hands dug deep into the pockets of his black trousers.

"No," she sniffed, turning away and lifting her nose in the air, "just some lovely witches and wizards that share the same viewpoint as you." She started picking up the paper-littered at her feet, wiping her cheeks hurriedly, annoyed with herself that such idiotic nonsense could have made her cry.

She heard his shoes tapping against the stone as he lazily stepped down towards where she was sitting.

"And what viewpoint would that be" Hermione scowled, shooting him a glare over her shoulder.

"That I'm worthless, that I don't belong in the wizarding world. Pus, they don't seem to appreciate, how did you put it? Oh yes, the little 'Love triangle' I've drawn myself." There was a pause, the silence deafening and uncomfortably full of magic that was definitely stinging her skin now, the little sparks threatening to make her wince.

Hermione turned back to collecting her paper, only to be stunned in place, when Malfoy sat next to her, his leg pressed against the side of hers. The effect it had on the magic surrounding them was almost instantaneous and Hemione blushed when she found herself biting back a sigh. It thrummed across her skin, gentle and soothing, brushing over all the places where it had previous stung her like a cooling balm. She watched as Draco leant forward, picking up a letter with a sneer on his face.

"You shouldn't let this stuff bother you, Granger." He cast her a quick glance, before throwing the letter back on the floor.

"Wha…" Hermione was gobsmacked, confused and downright irritated. "I'm sorry, am I missing something? Are you really telling me, not to let this bother me, when you, only weeks ago, were quite happily telling me to take my mudblood self, elsewhere? Not to mention that you've ignored my existence for the last few weeks."

Draco winced as her voice echoed around them in the stairwell, her words holding a sting of truth, that made him shift uncomfortably.

"I was annoyed okay. We had an agreement, Granger, and you not so gracefully, or you know, without telling the other party, bowed out. I was angry. Can you really blame me?" He stared at the material of his trousers, tracing the pattern of stitching with the tip of his finger.

"It's not like I could help it. Believe it or not, getting kidnapped by mermaids wasn't on my to-do list." she stood quickly, shouting her words down at him, in the most condescending way she could muster. Draco stared up at her angrily.

"Really? And here I was thinking that the mermaid crap was right up there, next to not bothering to apologise, and ignoring Malfoy."

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. She couldn't believe it, the whole mood had been because she hadn't apologised because she hadn't rushed to him and told him how eye-bleedingly sorry she was.

"Me, apologise to you?" Draco groaned, letting his head fall into his hands at the tone of her voice. It was dangerously quiet, but he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Look that's not what I…"

"Apologise to you? You bully me for years, tell me to stop, 'Infecting everyone's oxygen' and you have the gall to tell me, that I need to apologise?"

"Granger that's…"

"Well here goes then," Hermione put her hands on her hips, leaning down slightly, so every word would smack straight off the blonde's, perfectly styled hairdo. "I'm sorry that you're such an inconsiderate prat, with mood swings more varied than the weather, and a penchant for overreacting. I'm sorry that you think I deliberately went out of my way to hurt you, but considering your aptitude for making my life hell, I think it's about bloody time I got a few digs in of my own." When he didn't move or say anything she scowled and turned to stomp her way back up the steps.

"Granger...wait." She stopped, thinking vaguely that their roles had been reversed. She turned slowly, watching him suspiciously, as he climbed to his feet and looked up at her.

"Look I'm," he glanced down at the ground, his hands slipping back into his pockets as he shrugged, "I was a dick"' he said simply, admiring the brickwork to the side of him, "and I shouldn't have been."

Hermione could hardly believe her ears. It almost sounded like he was trying to apologise to her. Draco Malfoy, apologising? She'd almost been certain that he didn't even know what the word apology meant, or at least not how it related to him. He definitely didn't look comfortable doing it.

"You're...You're apologising?" Hermione breathed, uncertain whether she'd said it out loud.

"No, Granger, I'm playing quidditch," He bit back sarcastically, trying to sound annoyed, but only succeeding in sounding embarrassed, which he was. Hermione stared at him for a bit longer, her mouth opening and closing as her brain failed to supply words.

"Look, Granger, though your impression of a fish is, quite possibly, one of the most accurate and entertaining things I have ever seen, I do have better things to do so...If you'll excuse me."

"No-wait." The words were out her mouth as soon as he'd turned away and she cringed at how desperate they made her sound. She supposed that she should hold a grudge, no one would blame her. He'd been cruel and mean, and she had until recently despised everything about him. But this person, this was the new Malfoy; the one that smiled at her, laughed with her, the Malfoy that she'd missed, and that she, for some unknown reason, wanted to spend time with.

"Okay." Malfoy looked up at her, his expression hopeful.

"Okay what?" He asked, stepping towards her.

"Okay…" Hermione took a deep breath, "Okay I forgive you. But if we meet, we're going to have to be careful, and you are going to have to stop being a prat."

"I'll try, Granger, but you know it's what I do best." Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and her heart stuttered in her chest, as Draco beamed at her. The sight of it made it impossible for her to form a single coherent thought.

"So be careful, because of a nosy Potter, and don't be a prat, I got it." He stepped away quickly when Hermione moved to swat his arm "So when do you suppose…"

"Tonight?" Hermione offered, nibbling her bottom lip. Draco wiped his face with the palm of his hand when he found himself staring at the action with too much interest.

"I hear it's going to be a clear night, so the astronomy tower will be out of bounds, but I'm sure there's somewhere else."

'What about the room?' Draco cut in, looking at Hermione meaningfully.

"Okay, is this some kind of trick, because if it is, it sucks." Hermione pointed her finger at him angrily and Draco's eyes widened in shock.

"I don't know what you mean." He replied, dumbfounded.

"You, with this apologising and wanting to go into the same room as the Sensieve. You couldn't get away from it fast enough before."

Draco stared down at his shoes. He'd been expecting her suspicion, he couldn't blame her. In the weeks they hadn't spoken his thoughts had started, ended and consisted entirely of her. His eyes constantly searching for her. He'd wanted to stay mad at her, keep things the way they always had been, but he'd actually missed her. Not talking to her had actually hurt. So, he'd apologised, or at least tried to. His father would have suffered a mild stroke if he'd seen the display. Malfoy's never apologised, they were, given their namesake, always in the right, in the authority. But with Granger…

He wondered how this had happened, how she muscled in and rearranged things so quickly. He'd always been under the impression that feeling and crap took time. But Edwards memories had turned all that on its head. He'd learnt that feelings could sneak up and bite you on the proverbial before it could be told to bother some other poor beggar. Hermione had always, without fail, put him in his place, sent him reeling. Now she did it for predominantly, breath-taking, annoying, strawberry scented, bottom-lip-nibbling-to-distraction, reasons.

"Let's just say I've changed my mind." He muttered with a shrug.

"Changed your mind? Changed you...You've completely switched. Yes, you're still pompous and annoying but…" Hermione ran out of words as Draco raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"You flatter me." He smirked

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was invasion of the body snatchers."

"The body what?"

"The body snatchers, it's a film, a movie, a muggle thing," Hermione added quickly when he looked at her confused.

"Oh right, of course," He muttered sarcastically.

"My point is, this is…don't you think it's a little crazy?"

"Maybe," Draco shrugged, "But stop panicking. This isn't a trick, or a joke, or even that big of a deal. I just want to know how to use a powerful wand, so that it stops being a decorative stick, and stop the Sensieve's magic from being as annoying, no more, no less."

Hermione couldn't fathom why she was disappointed, but rather than concentrate on it, she sucked in a breath and straightened her back, meeting the blonde's gaze.

"Okay then, but no more attempts at apologising, you really suck at it," Hermione smirked, turning away and heading up the steps, smiling to herself when she heard his reply.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Granger."


	21. Old Magic

"I feel it's my duty to point out," Draco sighed, sitting with his back against the carved wall, wrists resting on his knees as he passed the ancient wand between his long fingers, "that the glowy pictures don't appear to be working, and somehow, I don't think staring at it, is going to make any difference whatsoever."

Hermione shook her head, hands planted firmly on her hips. "I don't understand."

"And Merlin forbid that should ever happen." Hermione crossed her arms, scowling slightly at the blonde's words.

"I mean it, why isn't it working?" Draco shrugged, picking up the large tome of Old Magic that Hermione had brought with her, beginning to flick through with vague interest.

"We did everything right, I'm sure of it. We came through the steps, although even they haven't closed." Hermione wandered over to look at the gap still looming above her, willing it to shut. Draco glanced up at her once before examining the house-elf summoning spell that he'd managed to find.

"Perhaps we need to be arguing?" She speculated, tapping her chin. "Maybe it's because we don't entirely hate each other anymore."

"Accerso, Willow." Hermione paused, glancing down at Draco who was pointing his ancestor's wand at the silver ring he had found which was sitting in the middle of his palm. He glanced around the room, grumbling under his breath when everything seemed unchanged. "Accerso, Willow."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, Granger, just trying out some new spells." He tried to close the book conspicuously, but she swooped down with lightning speed, snatching it out of his hands. Her eyes widened in shock as she read the spell.

"I cannot believe," she knelt down to his level so she could beat him with the book, "That you would attempt a spell as atrocious as this." Draco tried to protect himself.

"It's just a summoning spell."

"A summoning spell for House-elves considered little more than slaves."

"Okay, okay, Granger, I get the point, no summoning the pointy-eared suckers-for-punishment. I get it. It didn't even work anyway. Logic one, Liptious nil," He sighed, looking down at the wand in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. It was pretty there was no doubt, but since he'd cast the first Lumos spell it appeared that decoration was all it was useful for.

"Only Old Magic can summon a house-elf properly, once cast they have no choice but to obey, that's terrible."

"Like the Imperius Curse for house-elves," Draco muttered in agreement, only to regret his words when he saw Hermione's eyes shimmer with tears.

"I wonder why only Old Magic can summon them that way?"

"Who knows," she sighed, seating herself against the wall next to him, doing her utmost to stop herself from crying. The thought of the poor creatures being treated so poorly all through the years made her feel terrible. To her annoyance she found herself distracted when Draco leant closer to examine the book with her, breath catching in her throat as his arm brushed hers and she felt his warm breath ghost her cheek. She was getting fed up with her own reactions to his proximity, hoping above all things that a trip to the Sensieve would calm everything down. She secreted a glance at the side of his face, wondering if he felt it too and if he did, why he never seemed to be even the slightest bit bothered by it.

Draco reached across, turning the page, pointing at a particular paragraph, before leaning back. Hermione quickly turned away, realising with burning shame that she had been staring.

"It says something about the bond made between wizard and house-elf, the bond of magic and blood, yada yada yada. Years later it was found that same or similar spells could be cast, without having to slice yourself open."

"Hmm, I wonder if that's where blood prejudice comes from?"

"You think so." He coughed, the subject somewhat uncomfortable.

"Well, I don't really know for sure, but it would make sense, considering how important it seems to some people." He did not miss the insinuation in her voice. The little reminders of the world outside their room, made him want to scream into his palms. If anyone found out about their tentative friendship, he would be forced to decide between what he had always been brought up to know and believe, and what Hermione was making him believe.

"Ooo look, music," Hermione chuckled with delight, her thumb hovering over a musical note that danced its way across the top of the page.

"What about music?"

"Erm," she drew the book closer to her face, practically burying her nose in the tome and began to read, "Old Magic, was the connection of all magic, from the power of a witch or wizard to the power of everything else. This meant that many spells incorporated the elements as we know them today; fire, water, air and earth. The Cantiaer is the more playful of the spells used by practitioners of Old Magic, used at parties and social gatherings as a way to impress and titillate...Oh grow up," Hermione scowled as Draco burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, but what kind of parties were they going to?" Hermione rolled her eyes, before turning back to the book.

"The more complex the music, the more powerful the witch or wizard. It was seen in some circles as a courting ritual."

"I bet it was, bet they found it a most _titillating_ experience." Draco wiggled his eyebrows, laughing as Hermione slapped his arm.

"You boys are all the same, disgusting the lot of you." Draco calmed himself down, fighting back a grin as he spoke.

"So, let me get this straight, a witch or wizard, way back when, would use magic to conjure music, to get laid?" Hermione hit him again. "No... they...when you put it like that it sounds terrible." Hermione muttered, watching the drawing of the couple at the bottom of the page, dance beautifully.

"Yeah well, on the one hand, you've got, check out the sheer magnitude of my musical prowess and on the other hand, you've got, check out the sheer magnitude of my…"

"I think it's quite romantic," Hermione cut in, more to herself. She was shocked when there was no laughter, not quite used to a Malfoy who didn't take every available opportunity to ridicule her.

Draco lifted himself onto his feet, walking to the middle of the room. "What's the spell then? I can't guarantee it will work, the other one was a complete failure."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times in surprise, before turning to the book. "Erm, well, it's quite simple really. The witch or wizard in question, that's you.' she gestured to Malfoy.

"The one and only," Draco muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, rolling his shoulders. Hermione let out a chuckle before continuing.

"Should think of a piece of music, a melody that they know well."

"Got it," Draco muttered. The lullaby was a pretty famous one amongst most witches and wizards usually coupled with a good little rhyme about how to avoid giants. But the tune always made him think of home.

"To cast the spell, the wand should be pointed upright."

"For extra titillation." Draco wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he raised the ancient wand till it was pointed at the ceiling. Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help the light blush that coloured her cheeks.

"And held loosely in the spell caster's hands." Hermione glanced up, checking to see if the Slytherin had listened. "The melody should be pushed into the air, using the bond between blood. Once the bond is strong utter the magical word Cantiaer and that's it." Hermione looked up, "What?" Uncertain why he looked so incredulous.

"Push the melody into the air? The bond between blood? I tell you what, while I'm at it, I'll fart rainbows using the bond between trapped wind and my perfectly formed arse." Before Hermione could stop herself, she gave the 'perfectly-formed arse' in question a quick glance, and had to admit, it was pretty nice.

"It's probably very simple." she sniffed matter-of-factly, trying to pretend she hadn't just checked out Draco Malfoy's backside.

"Fine, then you do it," Draco held out the ancient wand to her, giving her a meaningful look.

"You know that won't work, it says the bond between blood," she lifted the book up off her lap to reiterate her point, "it's not by blood in that wand."

"Well technically, Granger, it isn't mine either," He said, crossing his arms.

"Yes, but it is your family's blood. Blame the Malfoys for keeping the line incestuously pure."

"Watch it, Granger." Draco bit out, feeling the anger bubble in the pit of his stomach at her disrespect for his family.

"Either way," Hermione continued, waving away his warning, as if it were an annoying fly, "It's your family's blood, it's you who has to perform the spell."

"I don't have to do anything, Granger." He spat, her know-it-all voice was back and going straight through him.

Hermione rolled her eyes, climbing to her feet and brushing the dust off her skirt. She walked into the middle of the room, standing before him with a determined lift of her chin.

"Try it again, how difficult can it be?"

"Well I don't know, Granger, when the instructions are as vague as using the bond between blood, I'd say pretty darn difficult. Unless of course, little miss bookworm, has managed to snuffle her bushy-haired way through a book on blood bonds, I'd say we were pretty…"

"I have," Hermione stated simply, shrugging her shoulders. Draco reeled slightly, still stumbling over whatever he'd been about to say.

"What?"

"I have. Well, not blood bonds per se, because that's not actually a thing, but I've read up on Old Magic. It was the- in a book I found, tucked down the back of one of the shelves, couldn't find any reference to it in the catalogue. But it seems to be a student's guide to Old Magic, or what was _just_ magic then." Draco could barely process the information, blinking as Hermione reeled it all off.

"Woah, Okay, Granger, slow-slow down. You found a probably ancient book, tucked behind the shelves at Hogwarts? A library whose system of cataloguing books is meticulous, without flaw, Ooo I'd even go as far as to say, magical," Draco drawled sarcastically.

"You finished?" Hermione asked, meeting his gaze with a disapproving look.

"Maybe, I just…when did you find it?" Hermione wandered over to her bag and began digging through it.

"About a week ago, you know when you were being a child."

"But how mature of you to not bring it up."

"Anyway, I was in the Library trying to find some more about old magic,"

"Knew you couldn't stoop as low as Lipitiboo, your conscience just won't allow it, will it?"

"I like to be as prepared as I can."

"Mmmhmm."

"Look if this is all real, which for argument's sake we sort of know it is…"

"That was almost a sentence, Granger."

"Well, we need to know as much as we can and Liptious, though thorough…"

"Talks out the hole in his…"

"Will you focus. Anyway, I was in the library…"

"Obviously."

"When I felt a shift in the Sensieve's magic, it felt like it was pushing me. Well, it led me to the shelf and," Hermione lifted her head up, turning to face Draco, a small worn book in her hands, "this was tucked behind one of the shelves."

"What just sticking out?" Draco asked, taking the book from her. It was small and delicate, Magic written across the front in decorative calligraphy. Draco opened the cover and sucked in a breath. In neat handwriting was the name of the student that had owned the book, all those years ago.

Scorpius Malfoy.

"Oh yeah, and it kind of belonged to your ancestor," Hermione added with a nervous grin.


	22. Casting Spells & Making Plans

Draco stared at the small book in his hands for some time, uncertain what to do with the new piece of information. He gazed at the letters of his ancestors' name, till they blurred together and became impossible to decipher. Draco looked up at Hermione angrily.

"You didn't think to tell me, you know just grab me after class; by the way, no biggie but I might have found your ancestor's book wedged down the back of a shelf." Hermione rolled her eyes again.

"I would of, had you not made a point of being a first-class prat." She spat, making Draco's eyes widen at her choice of words. "Plus, it's not that big of a deal, you have it now and it tells us exactly how to use that wand." she pointed at the ancient wand still clutched in Draco's hand, grinning mischievously.

Draco pushed the book towards Hermione, certain he wouldn't be able to concentrate long enough to read. It all felt too convenient, books didn't fall down the back of the shelves in Hogwarts library, to suggest such a thing would no doubt end in Madame Pince formulating a particularly nasty punishment, on par with getting your skin lightly toasted by a dragon.

"Don't you think this all seems a little…weird?" Draco mumbled, fiddling with the black wand, as Hermione flipped through the ancient book, she glanced up at him for a moment before turning back to reading.

"Well considering we've been experiencing the memories of strangers, because of, as you put it, a magical bowl," she stopped reading and met his gaze again, her eyes sparkling in amusement, "a bowl we happened to find hidden in a room that was shut away by 'glowy' carvings, that, in turn, was hidden beneath a set of stairs, that I just happened to fall through by accident," she took a deep breath, "I'd be inclined to say it was probably the most normal thing to happen to us yet."

Draco chuckled lightly at her, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. When she turned back to the words in front of her Draco carried on staring. He allowed himself a small smile as her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Right I've got it," she muttered quickly, looking up at him, just as he quickly found something incredibly interesting on the toe of his shoe.

"I thought you'd read this, Granger?" He asked, dryly.

"Well, well yes I did, but it always helps to reread it, keeps things fresh in your mind."

"I bet it does." He straightened his back. "Alright, what's it say?"

"Close your eyes?"

"That's it?" He raised one eyebrow languidly, and Hermione sighed.

"No that is not it, but it's a start, now close your eyes." She commanded. Draco sighed, making a big show of closing his eyes. After a moment his face contorted into a look of surprise and bewilderment.

"I don't believe it," he spluttered in wonder, allowing his mouth to fall open. In spite of herself, Hermione found herself leaning forward.

"What, what is it?"

"It's so beautiful, the colours, the- the complete lack of colours. It's almost like…almost like…"

"What? What's it like?" Hermione breathed, wondering if the connection had simply shown itself like she'd read it could.

"Like I've got my eyes closed," Draco added drily, grinning slightly when Hermione hit his arm. "Honestly Granger, closing my eyes? That's Trewloony level helpful." He blinked, opening his eyes and staring at her incredulously

"You didn't let me finish, now shut up, and close your eyes."

"Alright, alright. So bossy," He muttered, complying with her demands.

"Of course, I am Hermione Granger." Something in the way she said it, sent him reeling back to when they'd first met when she'd been more hair than witch. It made him smile softly, she'd changed, but some things never did.

"Now breathe."

"News flash, Granger, I haven't stopped. It's one of those fundamental things I need to do in order to live."

"Well if you want to remain that way, I'd suggest shutting up." Hermione ground out through gritted teeth.

"Alright, touchy." Hermione took a deep breath, calming herself, before continuing, her voice softer.

"Think of your magic as a light within in you...stop laughing, this isn't going to work if you're laughing," Hermione huffed, as Draco gave into the laughter that had been bubbling inside of him.

"I'm sorry but, you've got to be joking."

"I'm not joking, look."

"I'm supposed to have my eyes closed."

"Will you just look." His eyes blinked open and he casually took the book from her, smirking the whole time. His smirk immediately fell away.

"You weren't joking."

"No, I wasn't." Draco looked down at the book again, certain that, if he kept looking at the instructions, they would change.

'Close thine eyes to the world, magic is a light, believe and it will be so. You sure this wasn't written by Liptious too?" Hermione gave him a withering look. "I'm serious, they can't even spell."

"It was a different time; besides, we don't really have any other option do we. Now," Hermione took the book off the Slytherin, who was still contemplating complaining some more, "close your eyes, and let's try this again."

Draco sighed, letting his shoulders slump heavily, there was no point arguing with her anymore and he had to admit that he was a little curious.

"Your magic is a light, a light that connects you with the magic of the world." Draco's brow furrowed as he concentrated on her words, trying to imagine his magic as a light. The whole process was completely alien to him, and he was ready to give it up as ancient nonsense when something golden flickered across his vision and settled in the darkness. The small ball of light pulsed and the more he focused on it the brighter and bigger it became, till the vision was completely obscured by it. Wincing he opened his eyes and immediately reeled back, his mouth opening and closing in shock.

"What the matter?" He shook his head at Hermione's question, reaching out a hand to touch the light that completely filled the small room; it moved in the air almost like liquid, coiling around his arm as he reached out to touch it. He recognised the tingle of it against his skin, murmuring in shock when he realised it was the magic of the Sensieve, that presence that seemed to follow both him and Hermione around, choking the air out of the room when they were close, it was there before him and it looked so beautiful.

"Malfoy?" Hermione was completely obscured by the glow of pearlescent light from her, it emanated from her, shimmering and glittering as she moved closer to him, her head tipped to the side in concern. With a jolt, Draco realised that it was Hermione's magic, the very thing that his father had told him she didn't, couldn't have. Yet he could feel the warmth of it on his face and was blinded by the sheer brightness of it.

"You're, you're," Draco stammered, stumbling back.

"I'm what? Malfoy what's the matter?"

"You're glowing," He breathed, dropping his wand and slumping to the floor. As soon as the connection between the wand was lost, the world returned to normal, becoming dim.

"Malfoy, are you okay?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side. Draco waved her off quickly, unsure he could handle Hermione fussing over him at that moment. He felt like everything he knew about Magic had been turned on its head.

"Did-did it work?" Hermione asked hesitantly, gazing at the wand that Draco had abandoned on the floor. With a gulp, Draco turned to her, nodding his head slowly.

"Yes."

* * *

"I'm calling a group meeting," Pansy stated, rising from the plush sofa of the Slytherin common room, her shadow dancing across the floor as the fire crackled behind her.

"Joy of joys," Theo muttered, sinking further into his seat.

"I'm out," Blaise stated quickly, making a move to leave the room.

"If you value those pretty womanizing features of yours Zabini, you will sit down." Pansy eyes glittered dangerously in the orange light and Blaise gulped, slowly sinking into the nearby armchair. He cast a hopeful glance at his fellow sufferers; Theo, Crabbe and Goyle, hoping to at least gain some sympathy, though as always, none was forthcoming.

"What, oh great and mighty Pansy, are you going to try and rope us into now?"

"This is about Draco," She said simply, looking at each of them in turn, "he's acting weird." All four boys stared at her, their silence making her scowl.

"And?" Let his head fall back against the snake-shaped cushion that had slithered its way behind His, Crabbe and Goyle's heads, it was one of the more light-hearted pieces of adornment to makes its way into the Slytherin Common room, though no one was actually certain where it had come from. There were speculations of course, such as a joke, possibly a curse, someone had even suggested that it was remnants from a disastrous relationship one Slytherin had begun with a Hufflepuff. All Theo knew was that it was comfy and in order to get any use of it, he had to sandwich himself between the two great mountains of boys Crabbe and Goyle because they always seemed to be in possession of it.

"And, we need to find out what's wrong."

"I don't see how we have anything to do with your meddling," Blaise pointed out and Theo nodded.

"I am inclined to agree since when have we been anything but silent bystanders when you start 'helping.'"

"What's wrong with, Draco?" Crabbe cut in, his voice gruff and low.

Blaise lifted one eyebrow incredulously, wondering, not for the first time, how someone so incredibly dense could have been sorted into Slytherin.

"I think Vinny, old chap, what's wrong with Draco is, as Pansy put it, 'he's acting weird," Theo drawled, his eyes falling shut.

"In what way?" Goyle mouth falling open in the usual lights-on-but-nobody's-home way on completion of his sentence. Blaise winced as he realised it was just the opening Pansy needed to 'rally the troops'.

"Well, for one, he's been distant."

"Erm, do I really need to point out, Slytherin, and or a Malfoy and or kind of tetchy," Theo listed without opening his eyes, pointing at each of his fingers in turn as he made a point.

"Also see, 'up his own well-bred arse', 'delusions of wizarding grandeur', and 'albino sensibilities."

"Hmm, as Blaise says he is rather aloof. Doesn't like anyone ruffling those pretty blonde locks of his, not without getting a face full of his family name."

"Second," Pansy said loudly trying to drown at the boy's laughter, "He's been staring off into space recently, not joining in on conversations."

"Oh well, then there must be something wrong. You're right Pansy, we should do something, we don't know how long this has been going on for." Blaise shuffled forward in his seat, meeting Pansy's gaze with mock severity.

"I do," Theo smirked, "Poor lad checked out as soon as he met you"

"O har de har, very funny you guys. Come on, even you have to admit the whole thing with the Golden Trio was a bit weird."

"Pansy that was weeks ago." Theo scowled, shuffling to try and make himself more comfortable as Goyle pudgy fist curled around the end of the cushions tale and yanked it rather abruptly making Theo jolt awake. "Greg, my main man, don't you think you've commandeered enough of it already, some of us are trying to sleep."

"Sorry." Though he said the words, Theo knew without a doubt that the large boy in no way meant it. He was simply behaving because Theo had supplied the batcakes for the evening, which both he and his fellow large companion were getting through at an alarming rate, tiny little bat wings flapping in their faces as they sunk their teeth into the pink icing.

"Yes but, he's been off, he keeps staring at that bushy-haired know-it-all," Pansy muttered.

"Perhaps he likes her." Crabbe was barely intelligible round a mouthful of cake. The first one to laugh was Theo, followed soon after by Blaise and Pansy.

"He could." Crabbe's defence did nothing to dispel their laughter. The mere suggestion of such a thing was absurd.

'Where do you get these ideas from, Crabbe?" Blaise asked, shaking his head incredulously. The huge boy shrugged, taking another bite of cake, thoroughly consuming one bat wing, with a grin.

"I don't know, they just come to me."

"Can we get to the matter at hand, please?" Pansy wiped a tear from her eye as her laughter subsided.

"Sure, sure, Draco acting weird, yada, yada, yada. What do you suggest we do? Perhaps we could form and Albino Intervention," Theo chirped.

"Well…." Pansy began, sitting down on the stool next to her slowly.

"You cannot be serious? Theo was joking Pansy, jo-king."

"I know, but he's not far off the mark. We need to talk to him, find out what's wrong."

"I think I may have fallen into an alternate reality, where Pansy is a Hufflepuff." Pansy scowled at Theo, cutting her eyes in a very Slytherin way.

"I'll have you know, Nott, Slytherins look out for their own. There is something wrong with Draco and I intend to find out what it is." Blaise sighed, his hand covering his eyes as he slumped back in the large armchair.

"No one is disagreeing with you Pans, but I don't know what you want us to do. Malfoys are known for being closed off, you start poking your pug little nose in and he's going to close up tighter than Gringotts."

"My nose is not…"

"Blaise is right, they're like ferrets," Theo grinned, referring to a particularly embarrassing moment for the proud albino with malignant pleasure. "They're skittish little things, don't do too well when poked." Pansy huffed turning to the fire.

"Maybe if we followed him?" Goyle shrugged, staring at his lap. Theos mouth opened and closed.

"Dost my ears deceive me, but did our very own resident idiot, have an idea that didn't involve eating something?" Blaise spluttered, mentally thanking Salazar that the large boy was at the other side of the room and making the trip across to hit him would no doubt figure on the boy's list of things that were far too much effort.

"It's an alternate reality, Vinny, be a good sport and pinch me," Theo joked, wincing when the boy wiped his icing coated fingers on his trousers and reached across to pinch Theo's arm.

"Oh, Greg you're a genius," Pansy squealed, springing up and enveloping the boy mountain in a hug.

"I still don't think this is a good idea, Pans. You know what Draco is like." Pansy appeared deaf to Blaise's warnings as she fawned over Goyle, offering the plate of remaining batcakes for him to dig into happily.

"Those are to share, Parkinson."

"I am sharing, Nott." She bobbed her tongue out quickly before turning to Blaise, "You never think any of my ideas are good, Zabini. Trust me, Draco will be thanking us."

Theo and Blaise looked at each other, shaking their head in unison. Though Pansy was loyal and scarily astute when it came to sniffing out secrets she never did know when to call it a day. The brown-haired witch would keep searching till she found her answers all the whole thing blew up spectacularly in all their faces.

* * *

"What was it like?" Hermione handed the wand back to Draco who took it cautiously with shaking fingers.

"Light, there was light everywhere." He gulped, slowly pushing himself onto his feet, holding his arms out a little as his legs shook beneath him and threatened to give way.

"Do you think you could try the spell?" She asked, her voice quiet as she climbed to her feet, examining his face closely. He seemed distant, running his hand over the dragon that adorned the wand.

"I…" Gulping heavily he closed his eyes, focusing on his magic. Almost immediately the golden light flared, shining so much brighter and seeming so much more apart of him than when he had first seen it. Now he could feel it coursing through his veins and into the wand. He thought of the lullaby, silver light weaving with the gold. He could hear the music, notes warm and clear filling his mind.

"Cantiaer." His voice felt different as the word left his mouth as if his voice held the very power to change the fabric of the world. It was entirely all too much power and it scared him, the wand dropping from his fingers as two notes wheezed into the air around them, fading into nothingness as it clattered to the stone floor.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, her brown eyes staring into his with genuine concern. Draco gulped, nodding slightly.

"Yeah, it's just…different." He almost choked on bitter laughter at how much of an understatement his own words were. What he and Hermione found was so much more than different, it was life-shattering, world-altering. The whole history of magic changing within a matter of seconds. They'd opened a door to a world of power that he was certain no one else knew existed, or at least if they did, it was a closely guarded secret. He pressed his hands against his knees, hunching over as he tried to calm his breathing. It was his power, he saw it, felt it. The power did not come from the wand, it came from him. He thought of what others could do if they knew the power that they possessed, what he knew they would do and almost wished that the wand had remained hidden.

"I know," Hermione stared down at the book, "it does say that the process should be repeated over and over, in order to become comfortable with it."

"It's nice that they think I'll get used to it." Draco joked, wiping his hand over his face.

"Perhaps we should call it a night?" Hermione suggested, beginning to back her bag when Draco slowly nodded his head, finally straightening himself up. He felt so entirely drained and at the same time crackling with an energy that made him feel wide awake.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Watch it, Granger, someone might mistake you for actually caring about me."

"As if," She countered, shimmying her way up the rope they'd used to climb down. When she'd finally managed to lever herself onto the steps she looked up and she gasped. The domed ceiling of the room with the emerald pillars stretched up over her head, levitating candles flickering to light. Draco climbed up behind her and sighed.

"Well let's get this over with."

As if on cue the Sensieve floated out from a gap in the floor, silvery mist filling the room.


	23. A Promise

Voices echoed in the mist, and gradually the memory wobbled into place, shimmering slightly like the surface of a lake, before becoming solid and real. Masarvas Manor towered in front of her, grey clouds thundering angrily above it. Wind bit at her arms, as Mina pulled a woollen shawl over her head.

The manor had been busy, witches and wizards always arriving, rallying themselves to Arden's cause. They stepped out of their elegant carriages, their robes bearing the symbol of Ordo Lucis. Many of them she recognised great Lords and Lady's she had been acquainted with since she was younger. Now though they seemed different, their faces set and stern, a coldness in them she did not recognise. Even as they passed their fellow magic users, those that had been brought to the manor in chains, they did not blink, did not falter. Instead, they pushed their shoulders back, noses thrust highly in the air, walking with a pride Mina knew they did not deserve.

Hermione wanted to recoil in horror, as a woman was pushed into the mud, screaming for mercy as she was dragged by her hair. A gash opened up on her forehead and seeped its sadness into the mud. She fought and clawed those that tried to lift her up off the ground, till eventually, she couldn't fight anymore, and she fell like a rag doll, her limbs limp, her eyes distant and far away. Hermione willed Mina to do something, pushed with all her might against the memory, but instead Mina turned away, guilt settling uncomfortable and unwanted in her gut as she remembered all those that had gone before and all those that would follow. Hermione tried to close her eyes to the memories that flickered through Mina's mind, atrocities she'd seen, felt, heard, all of them clamouring for space. She understood a little why Draco had refused so adamantly to return to the Sensieve, some emotions were too raw and too terrible to feel, and yet they ripped through Mina with a force that left Hermione certain she would blow away on the wind in tiny little shards.

Quickly Mina slipped through the side gate, casting one glance behind her, ensuring that no one was following. Walking along the outskirts of the wall, she made her way towards the forest, quickening her pace so that no unsuspecting guard would spot her. Her skirt clung heavily to her ankles as the rain soaked into her skirts, and the mud hindered her every step as it sucked at her boots and threatened to hold her in place. But once she was under the cover of trees the ground became soft, great layers of pines and leaves creating a carpet beneath her feet. The scent of the forest was fresh with freedom, tree trunks huddled close, their branches overlapping and blotting out the sky above her. It was dark in the forest; dark, quiet and safe, the soothing patter of rain was all that followed her here. Even only a few feet away, the shadow of the Manor still looming close, she felt as though she were somewhere else; a different time, a different world beyond the line of trees just waiting for her to join it. She shook her head when Edward crept back into her mind, her thoughts again wondering to the desperately hopeless thought of _What if things were different?_

Fumbling with her dress, she pulled her wand out her deep pocket and Hermione marvelled at it. She had never seen anything more delicate or beautiful. It was white, the end of it craved like that of a tree trunk, with whirls and a small tree hollow, branches stretched up decorating the length of it, pink blossoms blooming on the surface. Mina lifted it and instantly the world lit up, everything in sight glowing. She could feel Mina's power, strong and powerful and violet as it weaved into the air, tendrils of it mixing with the light of everything else. Suddenly Mina was standing in a cave entrance, the wood having completely disappeared from around her. Hermione found herself a little disorientated, the transition so smooth and seamless that Hermione began questioning if there had ever been a forest, to begin with.

"Magiapero," Mina muttered, and a light green trail began to glow in front of her, leading into the depths of the cave. It wound through tunnels for what seemed like an age till it opened out in a cavern. A large clear pool sat in the centre, minerals glittering iridescently beneath its surface. Mina smiled when she heard the crackle of a fire and saw her friend standing at the entrance to another tunnel, her hands crossed in front of her.

"Took you long enough, I had the tea on when you arrived." Mina felt like collapsing at Sonyea's words, all the emotions she had been caging within her threatening to burst from their stronghold. As if sensing this, the small woman rushed forward and hugged her and Mina sank into her embrace, great sobs leaving her, their heaviness dragging her to the floor.

"Sonyea."

"Shhh, Shhh, it's alright, it's alright." Mina clutched at the fabric of her friends' dress, digging her fingers in and feeling how real it was. Her answer was a sob, everything she'd so desperately tried to cling onto rushing out of her at the sound of her friends' voice. She wanted so badly to tell her friend that it wasn't okay, to relay all that she had seen. But there were more important things they needed to discuss and Sonyea knew of the terrors, Sonyea had seen them too.

"I wanted to come sooner, but it-it…it has been so difficult. They bring people every day," Mina spluttered as her friend rubbed her arms, trying to chase away the cold and the pain.

"Oh Mina, you should have come with me. Come, sit down. You'll catch your death out here." She led her down the tunnel, just as Mina realised that she was shivering, the damp sinking into her bones and making her teeth knock together.

The tunnel ended in yet another cavern, somewhat smaller than the other one, adorned with various bits of plain furniture. Sonyea led her to a large wooden chair close a small fire, gently pushing on her shoulders, encouraging her to sit. Mina stared vacantly at the flames, watching the smoke curl up and out a small hole in the ceiling. Sonyea's wand was emerald green decorated with whirls and stars that shone as she moved it through the air.

"Siccununc." Mina's clothes instantly dried and the mug on boots crumbled and fell to the cave floor in clumps.

"Thank you."

"I mean it, Mina, you should have come with me," Sonyea tutted, picking up a small cup and filling it with the steaming liquid that was bubbling way over the fire. Mina wrapped her hands around and smiled gratefully, the warmth of it sinking into her palms and travelling up her arms.

"I could not leave," Mina murmured taking a sip of the mint tea.

"So, you have said. There are other ways to help. Safer ways."

"This is safe?" She gestured to Sonyea's abode and the young woman laughed lightly, shaking her head. Sonyea had actively voiced her disapproval of Arden, cornering the man as he brushed off his robes and the showering of praise he received from the far more zealous witches and wizards after his display of, as she had put it, utter cowardice and stupidity. Her stance had endangered her life and so she had fled, begging Mina to follow her. But then there had been Edward and all the hope his potential love had offered her. If she was honest, she had never expected things to get so bad. But they had and in the aftermath of Edwards rejection she had fought of her embarrassment and shame by helping in any way she could.

"This is safer than living with him. Mina, you have to leave. You are here now, why not stay?" Sonyea's words a temptation, a sweet glorious temptation. To be free from it all, to not have to see all that she had seen, to know all that she knew and better, to not have Arden hounding her steps every second of every moment, speaking of their love, their life and marriage, as if those were such certainties that the centaurs had foreseen in the stars. But she couldn't, when she closed her eyes, she saw the woman in the mud, saw the terrible gash on her forehead and imagined her chained beneath the cold brick of Masarvas Manor, cold and alone in the dark. Mina shivered.

"I cannot leave them, Sonyea, I have to - there is a way to save those people I know it, I just…" Sonyea sighed, falling into the chair opposite Mina.

"You're hopeless."

"I learnt this all from you." Sonyea smiled sadly.

"And I wish you hadn't. Mina what if he…" Sonyea held up a shaking hand. She did not wish to speak of what Arden could do to her, she knew it all too well herself. "How did you get here?"

"Apparated. Arden and Sornius are out running some errand. I could not hear the purpose of the trip. I managed to slip out however, the others are less watchful."

"Sornius Heert?"

"Hmmm."

"Oh, Arden." Sonyea's head sunk into her hand, "No good can come of this."

"They are doing something with the wands, they are taken from people and hidden somewhere within the Manor. I cannot find them, but I heard…I don't know what I heard but I know - I know he's kept them all."

"What could they possibly need with their wands, he knows he can't use them and there is no way he can destroy them."

"Something about the power within them."

"But that's impossible, only a witch or wizard can wield their own…"

"I know, but I hear whispers of it, something big, something powerful. It could all be a ploy to mislead me, but I do not think that is the case. Arden, in spite of everything, seems to trust me."

"He still talks of marriage?" Mina froze, pulling her shawl around her more tightly, fingers gripping the material so hard they turned white.

"He does and I always tell him that he must wait, though I am not sure how long that will last."

"I won't let you go back there, Mina, you can't-you can't marry him."

"If not for me how will any of the council members know of Arden's plans. As of now, he suspects nothing and we will always be one step ahead of him, knowing his plans before he even has a chance to put them into action. You know I cannot leave, Sonyea." There were so many lives that depended on the information that Mina had to offer and Sonyea was the only person that could get it to them, being hidden away as she was and knowing Mina as she did. Sonyea did not reply, but her silence was enough.

"What news is there?" Mina asked, gripping her cup ferociously in her hands.

"The council members have amassed in the North, they've taken up residence at Hogwarts." Mina nodded, the school had been emptied during the battle of Black Lake and had not been repaired enough for students to return, now Mina feared it never would. "From what I have heard, they do not intend to stand against Arden, but instead continue with their initial plan." Mina scowled at her words.

"How do they propose to do that, maybe it would have been possible with the magical world united, but that time has long since passed." She took a sip of her drink, meeting her friends gaze levelly. "What of all the lives that will be lost, innocent people, surely they are more important than hiding away?"

"The council claims that more lives will be lost if they move against Arden, he does have some of the most powerful wizards rallying behind him." It was true enough but made even more frustrating because of that fact. With some of the most powerful wizards acting in direct opposition to them, there was no chance of them ever hiding safely or effectively.

"Word has been sent, those wishing to receive protection should make their way to Hogwarts."

"But you cannot apparate…"

"I know, families have already begun to make the journey, most though have been cut off by Arden's followers. We have tried to help them, but it seems there are less of us by the day."

"I cannot believe this, are there not more that can help?"

"None of them wish to leave the safety of Hogwarts, not with Tharin Morax's men also hunting them."

Mina froze, gasping for breath as she thought of Edward, wondering if he was one of the men hunting those she was risking her life to protect. She felt guilty as her heart ached for him. The small taste of him still lingered on her lips and was destined to remain there forever it seemed. No matter how much she tried she could not seem to be free of him.

"Tharin Morax?"

"Hmm," Sonyea nodded, sipping her drink before placing it down the side of her chair, "from what I hear he's sent out small groups of men to scout the area, killing people, burning homes. Most have fled, but that those that remain…" They both fell silent for a while, the heavy weight of bad news sinking onto their shoulders. Mina had never believed that she could cope with such a burden, but every day she took on more, and every day she kept going.

"You have not spoken of, Edward." The direct mention of him set Mina's hands shaking.

"There...there is nothing to say, he has made his choice and I have made mine," she stated, attempting a conviction she knew she could never muster.

"Oh Mina," Sonyea sighed, tipping her head in sympathy, that made Mina's bottom lip wobble, "what happened?"

Slowly Mina told her everything, relating every detail in the deafening clarity with which it lived in her memory, letting it break her heart all over again. Sonyea listened, her face betraying nothing of what she felt, and when Mina finished, she was silent for some time. She watched as her friend rose from her chair, walking slowly towards the fire, where the metal pot hung suspended.

"I'm going to tell you something that...that I've never told anyone before," the small woman sighed, squaring her shoulders resolutely and turning to her friend. "I am in love with Arden Masarvas." Mina opened and closed her mouth as she struggled to process the information.

"What? But...But that cannot be-you…you're fighting him." Sonyea nodded, smiling sadly.

"It is and has been for such a long time. I…" Sonyea sighed, falling back into her chair and staring at the cave walls, the water dripping down them, glittering in the firelight, "I fell in love with the Arden we both knew and, even now I…" She wrung her fingers together in her lap before meeting Mina's gaze. The blonde woman knew that look, knew the feeling it betrayed, the heart-wrenching agony of having so much feeling and love for someone who would never reciprocate.

"Sonny I am so sorry," Mina said, using Sonyea's childhood nickname for the first time in a long time. She laughed waving her hand in front of her face as if the name came with a bad smell.

"You have not called me that in so long, I thought you'd finally forgotten it. Do not be sorry. My point - the point in me telling you this is that we all have reasons for living as we do, for fighting as we do. I cannot condone the actions of the man I love, and I will do everything within my power to stop him. But I remain here,' she gestured around her, to the cave walls, 'in case he changes his mind and becomes the man I know him to be." Sonyea knelt in front of Mina and took her hands in her own. "Perhaps, the Commander felt he needed to push you away because he loves you."

"Sonny don't defend him. You wait for Arden because you're a good person because you see good in him. Edward is not waiting for me, He does not want me, or care for me. He's made it all abundantly clear."

"And who do you think he was trying to convince?" Mina didn't want to believe it, but hope flickered inside of her.

Hermione felt like flinging her arms around Sonyea, thanking Merlin that Mina had a friend that was wise. _**Sonyea is right, he loves you.**_ She knew that Mina couldn't hear her, but she repeated it over and over regardless, hoping that it might sink through the ages and somehow change the memories she was witnessing.

"It seems pointless now to think of it, we both have our places in this world." Sonyea scoffed at Mina's words.

"I do not think you believe that any more than you believe your place is next to Arden. Mina," Sonyea squeezed her hands, looking up imploringly into her eyes, "promise me something?" Mina nodded, signalling that the young woman should continue. "Promise me that if you see him again, do not let him go. You have to promise me."

"I would risk making a fool of myself."

"Then make a fool of yourself, but please, I would not see you hurt as I have been. Promise me." Mina wanted to point out that she had already been hurt, but she could see that it meant so much to Sonyea, she could feel it in the desperate way she clung to her hands.

"I promise." She said it with relative ease because she was certain that she would never see the man again, no matter how much she wished that she could. Sonyea nodded, releasing Mina's hands and sitting back in her own seat, shifting her skirts uncomfortably. Mina dug her hand into her pocket hoping that the secrets she had gathered would clear the air.

"This is all I could learn. It's not much, but it's enough. Everyone seems to have become more secretive as of late." Sonyea took the scroll from her, her mouth turned downward. Mina knew that her friend did not agree with what she was doing, did not agree with her being so close to danger, but it was necessary.

"Sonyea, I am sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for, I have told you. Just please, I beg of you, be careful. Arden is swiftly turning into a more dangerous man than any of us could have imagined."

"Save all that you can, and I will save who I can," Mina muttered, rising from her chair and wrapping her shawl around her head. Sonyea hugged her close.

"Make sure you come back to me safe." She whispered it into Mina's ear, and she felt the overwhelming urge to stay in the cave, to let the rest of the world fade away. But she couldn't, there were people who needed her, and she had to muster the courage from somewhere.

"I will."

"This is very Gryffindor of you," Sonyea joked with a grin, and it sent Mina back to simpler times when the world was all books, magic and mysteries. When stakes weren't as high and being friends with a Gryffindor was the only mildly taboo thing she had ever done. "I always wondered why you were sorted into Slytherin." Mina, in spite of how she felt, grinned, gesturing to the scroll of paper in Sonyea's hands.

"That would be because I am conniving."

"Conniving and incredibly foolish. Remember our promise," Sonyea finished, sobering quickly.

"I will, always."

It took Hermione a moment to realise she was no longer inside the mountain, but instead in the room with the Sensieve. Rain was falling from the ceiling in great heavy drops that were warm as they soaked into her clothes. She glanced around and gasped when she noticed that Draco was lying on the floor, struggling for breath.

"Malfoy," she shouted, rushing to his side, tucking her bushy hair behind her ears. After a moment he opened his eyes, blinking at her a couple of time, relief flooding his eyes when he realised where he was and who he was looking at.

"I swear that thing has got it in for me."


	24. Demons Tooth

Fog rolled in over the mountains and mist clung to the earth. It wrapped around the legs of the men stumbling in front of him. They'd been on the road for months and it showed in the dark circles surrounding every man's eyes and the downward slump of their shoulders. All of them had done terrible things; ripping homes apart and setting them alight, watching memories and beams fold in on themselves and be cast into the open air as plumes of thick black smoke. Women had been raped and beaten, their bodies, broken and bloody cast aside. Dirty fingers had reached out begging for help and they had been ignored. Ignored because there was no other choice. Bile rose in his throat like it always did when he thought too long on what he had seen; he swallowed it, ignoring the accusatory glances from the men, women and children that had been captured. They trundled along in carts, packed in like animals and locked away like criminals.

"HALT!" Aygust's rough voice shouted from the front, and the men and carts slowly came to a standstill. Edward sighed, making his way toward the front, his brown boots squelching in the mud.

"What is it?" A young lad asked as he matched pace with Edward, a light stubble growing on his chin. Edward had seen the boy many times during raids, his eyes wide and eager, desperate to impress.

"Not sure," He muttered, glancing about at the hills and the mountain rising up before them. They were supposed to be making their way home, all known locations of witches and wizards exhausted.

Aygust stood at the front, a large map gripped in his hands as he inspected it closely. The scarred puppet of Tharin's had been appointed the leader of their small party and had managed to keep his hands clean of all killing, sending other men to do his work for him. He had tried and failed to make Edward join in with the atrocity's, but he could see from the sneer on his face whenever he met Edwards gaze that he had not given up trying.

"Demons tooth. Halfway up, there's a cave. Its marked 'ere by Lord Morax himself."

Edward has seen the mountain, - affectionately named Demons tooth - it rose into the sky, tapering off to one point, its edges jagged with sharp rocks. The name definitely did its justice, the menacing peak having claimed the lives of many that had dared to climb it. There were whispers of treasure hidden somewhere within one of its caves and many adventures had fruitlessly made the perilous journey only to find that the mountain held nothing but death. The myth still remained though, making its rounds every few years. Some superstitious villagers suggested that the demon that lived in the mountain initiated the rumours, using the lure of treasure to bring victims right to his door. Edward never believed any of the stories, shrugging them off as fearful superstitions, wild imagined stories to voice around a fire, when darkness crept in on listeners shoulders and the terror made them shiver with fear. Now though - with the fog heavy in the air, only the base was visible and the peak was a menacing shadow, fuzzy around its edges as the clouds rolled and moved around it – he could almost believe the tales, imagining that the clouds were the breath of the demon, covering the path to it lair, waiting, leering in the depths of stone.

"Well, you can go then, ain't no one getting up that mountain in this weather." The man spat in the mud after he said this as if the action punctuated his words. Drops of spittle caught in his beard and rested there till he wiped them with the mad of his filthy hand. Edward glanced around the rest of the soldiers, the younger men looked fearful, the tales of the mountain no doubt running through their heads, the older soldiers, however, were shaking their heads, mouths turned down at the end grimly. The seasoned soldiers did not need to know the tales, attempting the peak any day was risky, attempting it with the fog so thick, was suicide.

"He's right," Edward cut in, interrupting Aygust before he could suitably admonish the soldier that had spoken out of turn, "we'll be blind up there."

"Silence, your fucking cowardice will deafen us all," Aygust spat, crumpling the map into a small ball, and jabbing his finger in Edwards' face, "this is the last location, we are doing it. Any man that doesn't, I slit his throat." There were murmurs among the men, but no one spoke up. Edward understood though Aygust had done little to lift a finger during the raids there was a certainty that he would follow through with his threats and make them as painful as possible.

Every step brought them closer to the mountain and deeper into the thick fog. Visibility was even worse than he imagined, hardly able to make out the men he could hear talking just in front of him. The footsteps seemed to echo strangely, sounding as though they were close one minute and far away the next. He thought then of leaving, he would melt away like a ghost and be far away from them before anyone knew he had gone. But Mina held him in place, her green eyes staring into his and begging him to come back to her, even as Tharin drew his blade across the delicately soft skin of her neck. He stared at the rock looming overhead and thought about dying. He'd thought about it a lot over the last month's, pondering the finality and freedom of it. If he were to die falling down the side of the mountain, shattering against the rocks, there would be no more to think about, no more to concern himself with.

The men gathered at the base, their movements slow and lethargic buying themselves time before they had to make the ascent. Edward understood their reluctance, he had faced the possibility of death many times and had somewhat made his peace with it, even so, his hands shook slightly as placed rope on the pile in front of him.

"We get so far up, anchor ourselves it. Got these?" The man that had spoken up earlier held metal pitons with hoops on the end. "Drive the little bitch into the rock, hard as you can. This goes you die." Many nodded, taking their own share and attaching them to their belts, but the young soldiers held back, their faces pale.

"All loose rock up there, double, triple check if you have to." As if hearing his words, there was the clatter of falling rocks somewhere within the fog, as if the mountain was taunting them, daring them to pit themselves against it, "anyone falls, don't care if it's your fucking Ma somehow dangling up there, you let them fall. Try and save 'em you'll fall too and then the ground will do the rest."

"Roke, they know enough. Get up that mountain." Aygust's voice came from somewhere behind them and the bearded man sighed, nodding his head to his companions. Edward followed the rest towards the face of the mountain, stabbing a piton into the face of it and levering himself up, finding a gash in the face to press his fingers into. Low down was always easier, grooves worked into the mountain that made the climb like walking up a steep set of stairs. Soon though it became treacherous; rocks giving way beneath his hands and feet, tumbling into the mist that swirled below, thee faint thumb of them hitting the ground the only thing to tell him the world still existed beyond the fog. Men had fallen, mainly the young soldiers, their faces panicked, arms flailing for purchase in the air. He thought seriously about joining them, just loosening his fingers and falling back. It would be like flying, he imagined. But even as he thought it, he found himself gripping tighter, throwing himself forward, muscles screaming in protest.

Eventually, his arm was flung over a ledge and fingers wrapped around it, quickly tugging him up and onto something solid, something flat. Edward glanced up and the mouth of the cave, more oval than round opened before him, its depth pitch black.

"Mouth of the demon." Someone muttered shaking their heads and Edward almost agreed with them, stalactites hung from its roof, looking like the sharp teeth of some great beast.

"Silence John, ain't no demon, just a cave," Roke assured him, clasping his hand around the young boy's shoulder.

"And that's worse." Edward murmured earning a laugh from the bearded man and a nod of agreement.

Caves were always worse, deep and dark and endlessly winding. Any man that got lost in a cave system was blessed by something quite divine if he ever saw daylight again.

"Aygust not make it up yet?" Edward asked, looking down into the fog below him, unable to see the bottom.

"He's not even climbed, the coward." The answer came as a wheeze from a man grasping onto the ledge. Edward rushed to help him, pulling him onto the ledge nodding once when the man thanked him, lying back on the ground to catch his breath.

"Not fucking climbed." Roke surged forward, his eyes the colour of flint. The man took a deep breath shaking his head, cheeks a bright scarlet, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Says someone's got to stay with the prisoners."

"Well, what a cunt," Roke spat the expletive at the cave and it echoed throughout the tunnels, repeating over and over till it finally faded.

"We should not speak of Captain Aygust that way," John spoke up, trying his best to look brave. Roke laughed.

"He ain't no fucking captain, that there's a commander, do you see him looking after the ladies? No, he's fucking up 'ere with the rest of us. Now hold your tongue, or ill be cutting it out and shoving it up your arse."

"Rope?" Edward asked, tying his own rope from around his waist and securing it around a rock. At least with the pitons, the journey down would be less hazardous.

"Hardly got none. Damn fucker wanted so many people up the mountain we almost used it all." Edward cursed under his breath, pulling his torch off his back and handing it to Roke who lit it quickly. Quickly he tied the end of the remaining rope around his waist and groped the earth for a stone. His fingers closed around a flat piece of rock with a nasty point on the end.

"I'm going in, you feed the rope as far as it will go, tug it twice when its run out, I'll use this from then on."

"Shouldn't we – shouldn't we all go in?" John asked, peering past Edward into the depths of the cave.

"Your Ma birth you without brains, lad. That there's a fucking maze, you go in, ain't no guarantee of coming out."

"Wouldn't we find them faster?"

"And get lost faster." The man on the floor had caught his breath and was taking his own torch off his pack, pressing it into Edwards' hand. "The other goes out, use this." Edward nodded turning back to the entrance. Without so much of a word, he walked into the darkness, the rope passing been Roke rough fingers hissing in the quiet.

* * *

"It's you." A voice said in the darkness and Draco felt disorientated as his surroundings melted away, and was replaced by a small cavern. A woman stood by a small fire, her brown eyes glittering with recognition, her wand pointed at Edward's chest.

"You, Mina's friend. You're one of them?" He gestured to her wand, and Sonyea nodded, chuckling slightly.

"Yes, are you going to kill me, Commander?" Edward shook his head, stepping hesitantly into the cavern and dropping his torch at the entrance. It flickered behind him and cast his shadow giant like along the far wall. leaving his torch flickering on the ground behind him. After a moment's hesitation, Sonyea lowered her wand but get it gripped in her fingers.

"How did you find me? This cave system is extensive." Edward shrugged kneeling down by the fire and warming his hands, flicking a stone at her which Sonyea caught with ease. "Hmm, trial and error. Muggles never cease to amaze."

"Muggle?"

"No magic. Tis what we call you."

"Not sure how I feel about that." He grumbled, rubbing his hands together before holding his open palms over the flames.

"If it's anything like how I feel about you killing us, you can't like it very much." Edward sighed, lowering his head lifting himself up. He towered over the small woman though she did not step back, meeting his gaze defiantly.

"I…" He paused, knowing that his words would mean very little to her even if he had the right words to say. They were just hot air and excuses. "Have you…have you heard from Mina?" His voice shook as he asked the question, watching with shock as the small woman sighed, sinking into a chair.

"Yes, I have." Edward rushed forward, grabbing her shoulders in his large hands and lifting her up.

"Is she safe? Where is she?" He asked desperately, only stopping when he heard the madness of his voice echoing back at him from off the cave walls. He released his grip, slowly, stepping back.

"I'm - I'm sorry.' He muttered, covering his mouth, slumping into the wooden chair opposite Sonyea's. His vision blurred with tears.

"How do I know that I can trust you, Edward?" She muttered after a moment of silence. He laughed bitterly at her question, trust was such a strange concept to him now. He had always been able to trust himself, to trust his values, to trust his feelings. Now everything he knew, all his value, all his feeling seemed hazy and Mina was at the centre, always clear, always real. Always certain, He didn't even think he could trust himself.

"You can't, but Mina…" Sonyea tipped her head to one side, inspecting him down the length of her nose before she sniffed and stared into the fire.

"She is with Arden, but she is far from safe." Edward's heart hammered in panic.

"I don't understand, how could she not be safe. Arden is one of you is he not?" Sonyea wrung her hands uncomfortably, seating herself before him.

"We are in the middle of our own war. Arden wishes to eradicate all muggles whereas our – there are those that wish to go into hiding. No one war, no more bloodshed."

"I always thought he was a fool," Edward laughed bitterly, running his fingers through his hair.

"Always?"

"I met Arden when we were both very young, let's just say my attitude towards him may not have helped his view towards m…m…us." Edward pointed at himself, leaning closer to the fire.

"You're the boy from the woods." Edward looked up at her confused, eyes widening in recognition after a moment.

"The girl that Mina, that was you?"

"It was." Edward shook his head, letting his breath whistle through his teeth.

"I threatened you that day."

"You did."

"I'm…" Sonyea held up her hands stopping his words.

"The past is done now. But Mina is not safe now. I tried to get her to stay with me, but she refused."

"Why?"

"She feels she needs to help. I have been receiving information from her of Arden's plans so that I can pass them over to my superiors."

"And you just let her?"

"Have you met Mina? There is little anyone can do to stop her once she has got an idea in her head."

"You have your stick, why not use that." Edward gestured to her wand.

"You mean for me to cast a spell over her? It would be the same as holding a knife to her throat." Edward seemed to deflate. He would never wish for anyone to hold Mina against her will, but if they could keep her safe, keep her away from harm then he was almost willing to condone it.

"You need to leave this place, someone knows you're here, they sent men to find you, to kill you."

Sonyea lifted her wand, muttering a quick spell smirking in amusement when Edward jumped away from objects that were floating through the air and into a small bag that did not seem to alter in shape, not even when the bed squeezed itself in there.

"You mean to help me, Commander?"

"I need you to tell Mina something, for me," Edward answered, picking at the leather of his jacket.

"And what would that be?"

"You need to tell her to leave. Tharin is a far bigger threat than Arden will ever be."

"Tharin, you mean Tharin Morax?"

"He will not stop till all your kind are dead, whatever war you have between yourselves it is nothing compared to what hunts you." Sonyea paused, pressing her lips together as she examined the Commander.

"She told me that you rejected her? Why such concern?" He gave her pained look, pausing for a moment before speaking.

"Not all bravery looks the same."

Sonyea nodded kneeling to pick her bag from the floor. When she turned back her eyes widened.

"Edward, behind you." As soon as the words left Sonyea mouth, pain erupted across his back. His breath wheezed in his throat as his lungs refused to take in air. He turned quickly tugging his dagger from his belt, only just managing to block the second blow that threatened to stab him again. The assailant's knife was batted out of his hand easily, the grip loose and unpractised. Whoever was trying to kill him was a novice.

John stared at him with same wide-eyed fear he'd had when looking at the mouth of the cave as if he saw a demon shimmering where Edward stood. He had seen the fear so many times. Death always looked the same.

"Please, he said I had to…" His pleas gurgled into nothingness as Edward pushed his knife into John's guy and slid the sharp metal across, opening him up and watching him spill onto the floor. Blood spluttered from his mouth and dripped down his chin as he fell in a heap, eyes turning glassy. Death always looked the same

Edward's dagger fell out of his hands, knees giving way beneath him. The wound throbbed and he could taste the tang of blood on his tongue.

"Edward." Sonyea was kneeling over him, her delicate features fading in and out of focus, "Edward, stay with me, I'm going to help."

"You need to go," He muttered, trying to push her away, wincing as more pain lanced through him. Sonyea ignored him, muttering under her breath.

"You need to go." Black crept in around the edges of his vision, and all he wanted to do was sleep, to sleep and forget. Just before he slipped out of consciousness, he watched as men appeared around Sonyea, yanking her off his body, and then there was nothing.

* * *

"Malfoy?" Draco struggled for breath as he opened his eyes. Hermione stared down at him worried and, in spite of the pain he still felt lingering across his back, he had to bite back a smile.

"I swear that thing has got it in for me." He muttered, glancing at the bowl as it sunk it the floor.

"What happened?"

"Edward was stabbed." With great effort Draco sat up, groaning as his muscles screamed in protest.

"What?" Hermione shrieked, "Is he okay?"

"Oh, he's just peachy, I mean what's a bit of mild stabbing amongst colleagues." Hermione rolled her eyes.

''You know what I mean."

"Mina's mini friend, you know the one from the market?"

"Sonyea?" She asked her heart racing.

"Yeah that one, she was there, she was healing him." Hermione grabbed his arms, jolting his back and making him wince.

"Oh sorry...are you okay?" Draco nodded, trying hard not to blush at the connection, reminding himself that he was, in fact, a Malfoy and Malfoys did not blush, or fall in love with Mudbloods. "What happened? Did she heal him? Is she okay?"

"Could we try shrieking one question at a time, Granger? The head is willing, but the perforated eardrums, not so much."

"Well has she healed him?" Hermione bit out, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"I don't know. Edward blacked out." Hermione sat down, blowing a curly strand of hair out of her face. Draco watched as it fell back in place, his fingers itching to tuck it behind her ear. He shook his head, deciding it was time to move before he did something he would live to regret.

"Don't move yet, take your time," Hermione muttered, pushing him gently back onto the floor as he cried out.

"Careful Granger, this isn't the first time tonight you could almost be mistaken for caring."

"I just can't stand to hear you winging like a baby," She answered, smirking at him. Draco laughed, wincing when the action hurt.

"So, what happened to you in there, all nice things I'm guessing," Draco said, looking none too impressed.

"You sound jealous."

"Oh, just a lot." With a chuckle, Hermione relayed what had happened, and Draco watched with wonder as her eyes filled with tears at the mention of Sonyea and her unrequited love. He noticed these things more now; how deeply the Gryffindor felt things, how much she tried, how much she fought for what she believed in. He couldn't help but be in awe of it, even when he knew he probably shouldn't be.

When Hermione finished, she settled on the floor next to him, her leg pressed lightly against his own. He knew she must have noticed but she made no move to break the connection, and it made him unbelievably happy.

"Erm, Granger," He muttered, turning his head to look at her, "I think Tharin's men might have Sonyea."

"What?" Hermione shrieked. Draco winced, wishing he had waited till later to tell her.


	25. The Slytherin Possy

'You didn't think to tell me sooner!' Hermione shrieked, as Draco stood, gritting his teeth against the pain and the squawking Gryffindor.

'Let's just call it payback for not telling me about my ancestor's magical book, you unbelievably found tucked down the back of some shelves.' Draco brushed his clothes down, wincing as the movement sent a spasm all down his back.

'Do you realise how petty you sound?' Hermione admonished, standing up slowly.

'And do you realise how loud and squawky you sound? Like someone shoving something spiky up an owls backside.' Hermione ignored him, storming over to the green pillar with the carved rune, waving her hand over it, to no avail.

'What are you doing now?' Draco sighed, hobbling his way towards her.

'I'm getting the Sensieve back.' Her voice was clipped and determined.

'Oh no, no, no. no, you're not actually suggesting we go back in there, tonight?'

'Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting.' Hermione began pressing her finger against the rune, pushing on it with full force it in a desperate attempt to make it work.

'Okay Granger, have you seen me. I don't know if you've forgotten but, I feel everything that happens in these memories, so spoiler alert, I technically just got stabbed,' Hermione ignored him, 'stabbed.' Draco repeated, enunciating the word in the most patronising way he could muster.

'Okay, I'm just going to let that percolate for a moment, because I'm pretty sure you wouldn't just ignore the fact that I, more or less, just had a knife in my back.' Hermione sighed, turning to him in frustration.

'I get it okay, you got stabbed, but Sonyea, she's….I just want to know what happened to her.' Draco sighed heavily, leaning against the wall, hating the fact that her caring, made a small space inside of him, care too.

'Okay, Granger here's the deal.'

'I'm not in the habit of making deals with Slytherins,' she spat over her shoulder, now pressing her open palm over the rune, in a desperate attempt to get it to glow.

'Well tell that to past, Know-it-all-Gryffindor, because I don't think she got owled the memo.' Hermione scowled, her shoulders slumping. With exaggerated effort she turned to face him, leaning against the pillar and crossing her arms over her chest.

'Fine, what's the deal.'

'You let me, recuperate, which I don't think is too much to ask, seems as I have been mortally injured.'

'And don't you go on about it.' Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes.

'Being treated like a pincushion will do that to you.' he cut in, and Hermione bit back a smile, 'And we will come back tomorrow.'

Hermione stared at him for a moment, 'We better' Hermione stated, pushing herself off the pillar.

'You have my word as a Malfoy.' Draco placed his hand on his heart and bowed slightly. Hermione snorted.

'Is that supposed to mean something?'

'It means everything, Granger. Now can we go? It's quite a way back to the Slytherin Common room, and I am hobbling you know.' Hermione rolled her eyes again.

'You know, I am finding it hard to sympathise with you right now.' she muttered, walking slowly by his side as Draco hobbled across the room. 'It would be easier, and probably a lot quicker if you leant on me.' Hermione pointed out, vaguely amused by the display Malfoy was putting on.

'I do not need help, Granger. I am a Malfoy.'

'Tell that to past, whiney ferret, I don't think he got owled the memo.' Hermione mocked, using Draco's own words against him.

'Ha de ha, Granger, I forgot how delightfully funny you are.'

They stepped out onto the corridor, and Draco took a deep breath, sighing as fresh air filled his lungs. The smell of blood was difficult to forget.

'It's sad, don't you think, that someone so young would betray Edward?' Hermione muttered. Draco didn't know what to think, if he had been Edward's situation, he would have incurred every wrath, known and unknown to magical kind, upon the small helpless little muggle. But it was Edward's memory, a muggles memory, and the way Edward thought about it was just confusing. He'd not hated the boy, instead, he'd felt sorry for him, sorry for his actions and sorry that he'd had to kill him.

'Well the kid would have died, either way, that's the very definition of being caught between a rock and a ha…'' Draco paused, glancing down the corridor worriedly, straining his ears, certain that he had heard voices.

'What's the ma…' Draco quickly covered Hermione's mouth with his hand. Hermione pulled away, her brow creasing in anger. 'Malfoy what the he...'

Draco grabbed the back of her head holding her still as held his other hand over her mouth, ignoring the furious look she was burning into the side of his head. He glanced around quickly, before dragging her into a small broom closet.

Hermione wriggled furiously against his grasp, trying to free her mouth so she could give him a piece of her mind. 'Granger would you stop moving.' Draco hissed quietly, gripping her tighter, pulling her back flush against his chest. 'Granger, seriously…' They both froze as they heard footsteps growing closer, and a few seconds later, Hermione heard voices she thought she recognised.

'I thought you said you heard something?' The voice was female and whiny, and Hermione realised, distinctly pug Pansy.

'I did, around here, it sounded like Draco.' A voice answered, gruff and dumb sounding.

'Are you sure it isn't the sound of air passing through those ears of yours, Vinny, Old chap?.' Hermione recognised Theodore Nott's voice anywhere, proud and pompous.

'Pans, can we please just get back to the common room, it's warm, and there isn't Filch and the overwhelming sound of stupidity.'

'Shhh, Zabini, honestly, it's like you don't even want to help Draco.' Pansy reprimanded.

'And like I've said before, Parkinson, I'm pretty sure Draco doesn't want you sticking your nose in. He's too proud.' Hermione felt the hand clamped over mouth, twitch, and finally realised that her back was pressed against him. She could feel warmth emanating from his chest, and the quick beat of his heart. Hermione's heart sped up right along with it, the space felt small and suffocating. She couldn't be pressed this close to a Malfoy, meeting to teach him spells was bad enough.

Shaking her head she yanked his hand quickly from her mouth, stumbling away from him. She turned quickly and froze in horror as she knocked against a broom. It teetered for a moment, before clattering down the stairs. Grey eyes burned into hers furiously, as he communicated silently, just how idiotic he thought she was.

'What was that?' Crabbe asked.

' We should check it out.' Pansy muttered.

'Oh Merlin, why? It was probably a rat, or a mouse, or common sense telling you to go back to bed?'

'Don't be silly Zabini, you don't have common sense do you Pans? Just a little voice corroborating every stupid thought that happens to pop into your head.'

'Will you two shut up, I can't concentrate.' Pansy muttered, the sound of her footsteps getting closer to the cupboard.

'Oh yes because door handles are notoriously difficult, took me half an hour to get into the library the other day, couldn't quite figure out the turn.' Theo said, and Hermione heard Blaise laughing quietly.

Quickly she pulled her wand out her pocket, muttering a locking spell. A few seconds later the handle jiggled.

'It's locked.' Pansy spat, and Hermione jumped, unconsciously shifting closer to Draco, their shoulders brushing in a burst of small tingles as the Sensieve's magic grew around them.

'Well let's leave it then, there's probably...and she gets the wand out. Tell me, Theo, should I use my invisibility for good or evil?'

'Evil, always evil, it's more fun. More fun than this anyway.'

'I could try bashing the door in.' Crabbe uttered again.

'That's alright Vinny, my mentally challenged reprobate, we have these fantastic things that open doors. That is of course if Pansy can actually cast the spell.'

'If you think you could do any better, by all means.' Pansy answered, her voice echoing through the broom closet.

'You are not roping me into your little ventures with that Missy.' The door gave a slight click and Pansy giggled in delight.

'See I did it.' Pansy said proudly.

'Congratulations, you could almost pass for a first year.' Blaise ground out sarcastically.

Draco stepped in front of Hermione, and the small witch hit his back, making him turn to her furiously.

'What in Merlin's was that for?' Draco mouthed, a frown crinkling his forehead.

'Stop stepping in front of me, you overgrown ferret.' Hermione mouthed back, hitting him again. Draco tipped his head in confusion but jumped when the door handle began to rattle.

'Pans, we need to go, Filch and his fur ball are coming.'

'But, but, but.'

'No buts, step away from the broom closet.' The sound of footsteps died away, replaced by the limp of Filch, Hermione held her breath until that died away too.

'Are you a complete and utter idiot. You could have got us caught.' Draco whispered harshly, turning to her in the small space, reeling back slightly when he realised how close they were.

'And why is getting caught so terrible, scared your Slytherin possy will find out your spending time with a mudblood?.' Hermione sniffed, pushing past him to open the door.

'Whatever Granger, you could have just stayed still, honestly, how is the golden trio still a thing, when you have all the stealth and finesse of Millicent Bulstrode in heels.' Hermione winced at his comment, she had been at the Yule Ball, she had seen evidence of Millicent in heels and it was not a pretty sight.

'Admit it, you don't want anyone to know about our little meetings, do you?' Hermione turned to him angrily, pointing in the blonde's face angrily

'It's no different for you, how about we go tell Potty and Weasel you've secretly been meeting their enemy.'

'I think you're giving yourself far too much credit,' Hermione hissed, 'You're more like an annoyance.' Draco grit his teeth at her words, he knew they were said simply to aggravate, and it frustrated him how much it worked.

'Annoyance or Long-term arch enemy, either way, they're your sad little friends and you haven't exactly been spending much time in the 'sharing circle'.'

'What the hell is a sharing circle?' Hermione whispered, turning to Draco furiously, finding it slightly amusing as he stumbled back.

'You should know, everyone sits in a circle, the one holding the 'biggest loser' sign get's to talk about their feelings. I feel like we are getting off topic here Granger.'

'Is that what you think we do? Sit in a circle and talk about her feelings.' Hermione couldn't pinpoint why it annoyed her so much, but the thought that Draco was once again lumping her in, with all is pre-misconceptions of Gryffindors, really hurt. Strangely she'd thought he'd at least gotten past been that childish. She had to stop herself from laughing sardonically at her own stupidity.

'Well I don't know Granger, you bang on about the damned things enough.' Draco shook his head, digging his hands into his pockets, 'And besides, my point is, you haven't told them, now as a Malfoy, full disclosure isn't really my thing, but you?' He gestured to the witch in front of him, 'Well talking, feelings, let's deal with our problems, that's kind of your thing.'

Hermione did not even dignify his statement with answer, storming away as quickly, and as quietly as she could. She was furious, everyone treated her the same, everyone misjudged her. Even Draco pompous-git Malfoy, whose opinion she shouldn't have concerned herself with in the first place.

'Come on, Granger, you can't be in a mood with me over this.' He muttered, jogging after her and reaching for her arm, reeling back when she pulled it away harshly.

'Get off me ferret.'

'Woah, little miss hormones, what's got your bushy hair in a frizz.'

'You…' Hermione struggled over what to say, she didn't quite understand the anger herself, 'Just admit it, you're ashamed to be seen with me, ashamed of people thinking that we're are friends.'

'And as I have pointed out, not too subtly, so not quite sure how you missed it, your not so hot on the whole, 'let's tell our friends about our adventures', idea.' He gulped trying not to focus on the friends part of that sentence, wondering if that's what they were now.

'This is different, I can't tell Harry and Ron, because…'

'Because they hate me.' Malfoy finished drily.

'No, because they wouldn't understand, and...and Harry has so much on his plate at the moment.'

'Well we wouldn't want to crowd too much of potty's plate now would we, where would he put saving the word, and other mixed vegetables?' Draco bit out sarcastically.

'Oh grow up, at least my friends don't despise your very existence.'

'Don't they?'

'No, I'm a mudblood remember, and I'm pretty sure most of your friends feel that way.'

'Fine, Granger, you win, I'll come out the proverbial broom closet and tell them about everything. Who know's, maybe once the overall shock has worn off, we can all take group trips to the Sensieve.'

'You always have to be such a sarcastic jerk don't you.' Hermione sniffed, examining her shoes.

'It's what I do best.'

Hermione wanted to stay angry at him, but he had a point. She sighed, staring down the dark corridor, relishing the quiet of Hogwarts at night.

'Why were they looking for you anyway?' Hermione asked, looking up at the Slytherin. Draco let out a long breath, shaking his head slightly.

'Who know's with them, Pansy get's wild ideas into her head, and then..well she can be persuasive in her own way.'

He shrugged, 'she seems to think there's something wrong with me.'

''Well, of course, there's something wrong with you, you're a pompous jerk.'

'Charmed Granger, really I am.' Draco ran his fingers through his hair, 'Look, we just need to be more careful, I'll have a word with my 'Slytherin Possy', see if I can call off the hounds.' Hermione nodded slightly.

'Fine,' she turned away, walking down the corridor towards the Gryffindor Common room. She wondered if there would ever be a time when Malfoy didn't infuriate her.


	26. No Loyalty Amongst Slytherins

'So where were you guys last night?' Draco casually dropped in the question over breakfast, watching in amusement as Pansy, Blaise and Theo all choked on their food, glancing at each other sheepishly.

'Erm, around...why do you ask?' Pansy sniffed, digging into her scrambled eggs furiously, lowering her head so she didn't have to meet Draco's gaze.

'Well I looked for you guys all over, and I couldn't find you. I mean if you weren't in the common room that late at night, where were you?' Blaise gulped heavily meeting Theo's gaze across the table.

'It was all Pansy's idea,' Theo stated, pointing an accusing finger at the brown haired witch, ignoring the incredulous look she was pinning him with. 'We told her it was a bad idea, but she wouldn't listen.'

'I cannot believe you...you little...so much for loyalty.' Pansy scoffed.

'I loyally stand by my penchant for dobbing people in.' Theo shrugged, eating a spoon full of beans, with a grin. Pansy looked away disgusted, widening her eyes in innocence when she realised Draco was looking at her, his eyes the colour of steel.

'What're they on about Pans?' Draco muttered darkly, and Pansy gulped.

'Okay hear me out.' she stated, letting her knife and fork drop onto her plate with a clatter. Draco slowly placed his own down, resting his chin on his palm. 'You've been acting weird, disappearing for long periods of time, not really talking, and well...we were worried about you.'

'You were worried about him.' Blaise pointed out. 'Theo and I, we couldn't have cared less about you.'

'Much appreciated Zabini.' Draco muttered.

'Any time, mate.' Blaise grinned.

'Anyway,' Pansy continued, scowling at Blaise, 'We may or may not have, for your own good of course, erm...followed you a little bit.' she added quietly, muttering the last part down at her plate.

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, it almost sounded like you said you guys were following me.' Draco laughed sarcastically, pausing when his friends smiled at him sheepishly. 'You have got to be kidding me?'

'Not of our own volition, I may hasten to add.' Theo pointed out, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. Pansy was the mastermind.'

'That I can believe. Do tell Parkinson, what were you hoping to achieve by following me, apart from robbing me of what little privacy I, surprisingly, have managed to retain whilst being acquainted with you.' Pansy winced as he used her second name, knowing that she was on dangerous ground.

'I don't know,' she shrugged, flipping her brown hair over one shoulder, 'maybe find out where you've been disappearing off to. Anyway, officially it was Goyle's idea.' Pansy pointed a long finger at the large bulk of Slytherin at the other end of the table, tapping his Potter stinks badge over and over, chuckling to himself.

'Oh you cannot have stooped that low, Parkinson. Blaming Goyle of all people, I mean look at him.' Pansy begrudgingly had to admit he had a point, especially when the boy started dribbling.

'I hate to support Miss Snoops-a-lot, but it was 'officially' Goyle's idea.' Draco looked at Blaise shocked.

'I didn't even think that was possible.'

'Neither did we,' Blaise admitted.

'You had to be there,' added Theo, nodding his head slightly.

'Either way, we did it because we care about you, Draco.' Draco sighed, glancing at the brown haired witch.

'Well don't.' She huffed at his words.

'But where have you been going? It's not...it's not like you.'

'Pans, I'm not sure how much clearer I can make this for you, but my business is my own, and in spite of your best snooping, it's going to stay that way.' Draco spat, getting up from the table, and leaving his bewildered friends.

'Well I think that rules out any chance of him possibly telling us in the future, don't you?' Theo muttered, watching his friend stalk out the Great Hall.

'It's your fault, why did you have to tell him?' she spat, taking a swipe at the boy from across the table. Theo dodged it quickly, and smirked.

'Come on, Pans, this is Draco Malfoy we are talking about, guaranteed he'd already worked out your were snooping on him.'

'That or he was actually in the broom closet we found.' Crabbe muttered. All three slytherins turned to him in shock, having forgotten that the large boy was sat by them.

'I know I've made this point, but I'm just going to float the idea again, alternate universe?' Theo asked, turning to Blaise.

'It would explain why dumb de dumb,' he pointed at Crabbe and then at Goyle sat at the other end of the table, 'have somehow managed to have, dare I say it, good ideas.' Pansy leant forward excitedly.

'If he was in that closet, that means that he's hiding something, something big.'

'No.' Blaise stated.

'What?'

'No and again no.'

'But I haven't said anything.'

'No, no, no, no. whatever grand idea has popped into that teeny little head of yours, count me out.'

'And me.' Added Theo. 'Malfoys are scary when prodded, like rabid animals.'

'So you guys are scared of Draco then?' Pansy teased.

'Yes, absolutely.' Blaise nodded.

'I mean come on, you'd be stupid not to. Have you seen him in a morning. Like a bleached demon.' Theo shook his head slowly, 'Honestly Pans, I'm saying this with as much care and love as I can muster,'

'So not much then.' She muttered, resting her head in her hands as the boy spoke.

'Leave well alone, step back, cease all plotting and planning. He doesn't want us to know, so,' Theo shrugged, 'let's just leave it.'

'But what if it's to do with a girl.' Pansy asked, glancing around the Great Hall, as if the girl would make herself known.

'And?' Blaise shrugged, glancing at Pansy.

'What do you mean and? A girl, Blaise, as in our little Drakey has a love interest.' Blaise didn't react, blinking slowly as the witch sighed in exasperation. 'A love interest that he doesn't want us knowing about.'

'With good reason, I'd say. I mean look at you.' Pansy gave Blaise a dangerous look.

'And what's that supposed to mean, Zabini.'

'What it means, Snoopy, is that the idea of not knowing something has you frothing at the mouth. And well, ladies need privacy, need coaxing. You give them that, and they're dropping their knickers faster than you can say Evanesco.'

'Evanesco, nice.' Blaise nodded, high fiving his friend from across the table.

'Eew you guys disgust me, and by the way, you're not fooling anyone, I guarantee whatever action Draco is getting, its ten times more than either of you.'

'I am offended you would think so little of my sexual prowess, Pans.' Theo muttered in mock hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.

'I tend not to make a habit, of thinking about your sexual prowess.' Pansy snorted.

'Perhaps you should.' Theo wiggled his eyebrows, sobering when he saw the evil look Blaise was giving him from across the table, his face like thunder. 'Anyway slightly off topic there, leave alone Pansy. Leave.'

'Okay, okay.' Blaise looked at the brown haired witch and sighed, he knew from her tone, that she was anything but finished with trying to find out what was going on with Draco Malfoy, and by default, he would be dragged into it.


	27. Tiny Unicorn

Several Weeks Later

'Nothing!' Hermione exclaimed. Draco startled awake as the Gryffindor dropped a pile of books onto the little table they had been frequenting over past few weeks. The Sensieve hadn't made an appearance and the Memoria Luxareo refused to open. So Hermione had roped Draco into the next best thing, research.

They'd done an extortionate amount, more than any average human could manage in a lifetime. When Draco became certain they'd exhausted all their options, Hermione would wander over, a pile of books, teetering in her small arms.

The late nights though were taking their toll and coupled with his efforts to dodge an inquisitive Pansy, he'd spent the last few weeks in a constant state of comatose. Most classes he'd made it to, he'd spent unconscious, only startled awake when his friends had elbowed him back into the real world. Granger, annoyingly, has somehow remained unnervingly awake, channelling energy from some unknown source, and managing to zip around as if she didn't need sleep. Infuriatingly the skill seemed to come with the belief that everyone possessed such a power. Any evidence of him flagging had been met with a slap across the head, and her wittering on how important it was, that they find something. Halfway through the Easter holidays and they still hadn't found anything, and Draco hadn't managed to get any more sleep.

'Were you sleeping?' Hermione scoffed, taking in his unkempt appearance, and the glazed look he was giving her.

'If I said no, would you believe me?' He mumbled, using his arms as a pillow, wincing when Hermione smacked the back of his head. 'Ow, what was that for?'

'You need to wake up, this is important.' Draco didn't move, instead of sighing heavily.

'Just let me sleep, Granger, just for a moment.' He mumbled, his eyes falling shut.

'Wake up, Malfoy.' Hermione punctuated her words with a slap across his head.

'Ow, ow, okay, calm down. What is so important? As far as I can see you've found nothing, I've found nothing, so according to my calculations...' Draco rubbed the back of his head slowly, '...forgive me, I may be a little rusty due to sleep deprivation... but that equates to a grand total of...absolutely nothing.' Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Exactly.' Hermione stated, staring at him meaningfully.

'Okay, I feel like I'm missing something.'

'Well duh, you're missing everything.'

'Duh, Granger? Really? I'm semi-conscious and even I know that's just...there's a word.' Draco clicked his fingers, giving up after a moment, with a sigh 'Insert witty comment here.' Malfoy added lazily, covering his mouth as he yawned.

'Don't you see it?'

'See what?'

'It's really quite simple.' Hermione sniffed, flicking through the book in front of her with a knowing smirk.

'Fine Granger, astound me.'

'Well think about it, we research Arden, hardly anything, the same goes for Tharin and the Sensieve, and pretty much anything from around that time. Once is pure coincidence or bad record keeping, but this, it's almost as if the people never existed.' Draco shrugged, too exhausted to contemplate what it could actually mean.

'Right, vague books, no information, blah de blah de blah, your point is?'

'Don't you see what this means?' Hermione shuffled forward in her chair, her eyes bright with excitement. Draco blinked tiredly. 'It means that all these things, all these people, were deliberately forgotten for some reason or another.'

'So what, witches and wizards, from all over, decided to have amnesia en-mass? Oh yeah, sounds plausible.' Draco ground out drily.

'There's always obliviate.' Hermione said with a grin.

'To use a spell like that, on that scale….that's a big deal Granger, it would have to take something massive, something like..'

'Like witches and wizards going into hiding?' Hermione suggested, raising her eyebrow and smirking smugly. Draco opened and closed his mouth, wondering why it had taken him so long to work out.

'Okay Granger, say that you're right, that they did just obliviate every witch and wizard, what about all the magical objects, you know the lifetimes worth of research, where would you hide things like that.'

Hermione slouched back into her seat, shoulders slumping in defeat.

'I hadn't thought of that.' she muttered, staring down that the open book in front of her.

'Do my ears deceive me, but did I actually think of something swot extraordinaire didn't,' Draco mocked, 'this could just be the end of life as we know it, Granger.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, pulling another book from her pile, ignoring Draco as he chuckled to himself. Eventually, the laughter died away and Hermione was able to lose herself in the words.

'What's this?' Draco muttered. He had picked up a small slim book that was sitting neatly away from the others. Hermione looked up and immediately snatched for it.

'Woah…" Draco muttered, pulling it out of reach and reading the title down the length of his nose. 'Speculandi: The Magical Art of Snooping, by Jogaeous Spudge _._ Got some eavesdropping planned Granger?' Draco muttered, opening the small brown book and leafing through the thin pages. Most of it detailed how to perform Speculandi. Draco had heard bits and pieces about it from his father and knew it to be a very tricky spell, allowing the listener to blend into his or her surroundings almost seamlessly. Problem was if the witch or wizard moved, the effect wore off. Draco winced as he remembered a rather nasty occasion his father had relayed to him, when a wizard had been caught mid-snoop, due to a particularly itchy nose.

'It's... It's none of your business.' Hermione sniffed, doing her best to seem like his questions didn't bother her.

'What have you got planned this time Granger, going to spy on unsuspecting prefects as they bathe, or maybe you want to follow me around, to find out how I make myself so devilishly good looking.' He grinned, pressing his open palm against his chest dramatically. Hermione snorted,

'As if.' Hermione looked up at him, flicking her bushy hair over her shoulder, 'If you must know, it's to test a theory I have... well, sort of a theory, more like a suspicion.'

'And this suspicion would be...' Draco prodded, placing the book down on the desk in front of them, and raising one blonde eyebrow.

'Just a suspicion, centred around a rather nosy reporter, who likes to make up stories.' Draco started laughing.

'Are you kidding me? You're going after Skeeter, aren't you? What? You think she's some how found a way to listen in on all your private conversations?' Hermione's eyes blazed.

'Yes, yes I do. Her articles have detailed information that just...that no one could have heard, and then she twists it in the most horrid way' Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair and pinning Hermione with a rather pitying stare.

'So, she stretches the truth a little, what reporter doesn't?'

'Stretches the truth? Stretches the truth?' Hermione shrieked in disbelief, 'stretching the truth suggests that there is some semblance of reality involved. What Skeeter does is...is...is not right, people are getting hurt because of her fantasies.'

'Don't you think that we've got enough to worry about without adding a flamboyantly dressed reporter into the mix?' Draco asked drily, gesturing to the full table in front of them.

'She's hurt too many people I care about.' Hermione muttered, thinking of the way recent articles had hurt both Harry and Hagrid. The article about herself she could cope with, being bullied as she was, had given her a thicker skin than most, but people hurting her friends she just couldn't abide.

'Perhaps they had it coming.' Draco said with a shrug, lifting himself out of his chair, knowing that the words he had uttered would set the Gryffindor off in an explosive way.

'Had it coming? Of course, you would say that, given your hand in the article about Hagrid.'

'The man is a buffoon, he hardly knows how to use soap, let alone teach at Hogwarts.' Hermione fumed, her brown eyes simmering with anger, Draco stepped back as he felt the Sensieve's magic crackle around him.

'You take that back,' she hissed, standing up and pointing a finger at him, Draco stared at it, then stared at her face, wondering how one person could be so infuriating and so attractive all at once.

'I'm sorry, many qualities that big oaf may possess, under all that hair and general dirt, but personal hygiene isn't exactly at the top of the list.' Draco ground out, inspecting the Gryffindor as she slowly lowered her arm. He'd noticed that much of their interactions teetered on the edge of an argument, and while he found it exhausting, he had to admit that it did keep him on his toes.

'I don't expect you to understand Malfoy. People thinking badly of you isn't really your thing.' She scoffed turning to clear the table of the book and papers that were strewn across it.

'If that's your idea of a joke, Granger. Just a little constructive criticism, it's not really that funny.' Hermione's head whipped round to look at him, a small frown creasing her forehead.

'I'm being deadly serious. You're a pureblood from a renowned pureblood family, with connections and all that crap you like to bang on about so much.' Draco laughed bitterly.

'You think any of that counts for anything, what about you snotty little heroic Gryffindors, you guys can't do anything wrong, you think the sun shines out your furry lion arses and goodness glimmers in your freshly groomed manes.'

'That's...that's not true, we do not think like that and you know it.' Hermione fumed, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

'Maybe you don't Granger, but the rest of the wizarding world does.'

'Oh now you're being dramatic.' she sighed.

'Am I? Really? Let's think about this for a moment shall we, whose house is associated with goodness, nerve, save-the-frigging-day-la-de-da-and-all-that-stupid-crap heroism, give you three guesses.' Draco said sarcastically. Hermione ground her teeth together, looking away from the Slytherin in annoyance. 'I'll take your silence as Gryffindor, and you would be correct. 10 points to Gryffindor, because you guys can't get enough of those.'

'Is there a point to this Malfoy? As much as I enjoy your petty monologues, they do get tiring after, I don't know, the first hour.'

'Never fear, Gryffindor Princess, there is a point.' Draco answered, making himself comfy on the wooden chair again, tapping the wood with one long finger as he continued. 'May I draw your attention, to the grand ole qualities of the Slytherin house, would you happen to know what they are?' Hermione let out a long sigh, but answered him, pointing at her fingers as she listed each one.

'Resourcefulness, cunning, ambition, self-preservation, want me to carry on.' she muttered. Draco waved a hand and smiled.

'You see my point, Granger. Gryffindors, you're looking at your own little collection of soon-to-be heroes, take a glance at the Slytherins, well it's almost like Hogwarts just acquired its own little band of soon-to-be evil cronies.'

'Oh come one, Malfoy, this again.' Hermione shook her head slowly, she recalled their last conversation with stunning clarity, she hadn't agreed with his black and white view of the world then, and she still didn't. 'There have been plenty of good Slytherins,' she muttered.

'Name one.'

'Mina.' Hermione said, allowing herself a smug smile of satisfaction as Draco faltered, the knowing smirk falling from his face.

'So what, Sensieve Witch was a Slytherin, she did good things. I think you'd find Potty and Weasel and various annoyances of that ilk would call her a throwback.'

'Okay fine, there are certain...preconceptions towards Slytherins, but you don't help yourselves you know. You and Pansy saying awful things in the Daily Prophet, and how you were at the Quidditch World Cup, not to mention every little mean thing you and your friends have said to Me, Harry and Ron over the years.'

'You done, Granger?' Draco huffed, heaving himself back out his chair, to brush past Hermione.

'No I am not if you're going to complain, then at least listen to the argument. You could try to be nice, try to change the way people look at you, the way people think of you.'

'And what good would it do Granger?' Draco opened his arms out and shrugged, 'you really think that me being nice will change anything.'

'I don't know, it's a start I guess...why does any of this bother anyway. I thought that's what you wanted, people to fear you, to respect you. I thought that's what you thrived on.'

'And who told you that, Granger?' Draco muttered, and Hermione stuttered, unable to find an answer. She couldn't think, no one had ever explicitly said it, she'd just assumed. Assumed because he made a big deal out of who his family was, what they had and who they knew. He'd looked so smug and full of himself at the Quidditch World cup that she'd been certain that's what he wanted. But he'd never exactly said it per say.

'It...it was implied.' Draco laughed at her statement, running his long fingers through his blonder hair, mussing it up. Hermione tipped her head to the side as she inspected it, thinking, rather absent-mindedly, that he looked better that way.

'Face it Granger, everything about us 'evil' Slytherins is pretty much determined by a moth-eaten old hat, that makes up crappy songs to beguile us with every year, and the rest of you just kind of go along with it.' Hermione spluttered over her answer, shaking her head in a desperate attempt to dislodge some of the sense Draco was making. She'd never thought of it that way, never even contemplated that Slytherins wanted to be anything but what they were, mean bullies.

'But you...you...you say such mean things.' Hermione whispered, and in the silence that followed she wondered whether she had actually uttered anything at all.

'Well, if everyone is going to think you're an arse, then you may as well be one.' He muttered with a shrug, 'and you idiots make it so easy.' Draco chuckled to himself, shaking his head slightly.

'But if you stopped being mean, stopped being horrible and actually tried to make friends with people…'

'Oh yeah, because then everyone would love me, right? I'm sorry but, Potty made it perfectly clear what his thoughts of 'my sort' were back in first year, I doubt anyone is going to think any differently to the boy wonder.'

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at the blonde, realising that everything Draco had ever said, ever done, was because Harry had hurt his feelings and his pride all those years ago. That was why he was being so annoyingly pompous recently because things weren't going Harry's way, and people were actually listening to him, wearing badges that he had made. She wondered if that was all Malfoy had ever wanted, just a bit of the attention that Harry so regularly received.

'You know that's really immature right?' Hermione sniffed but offered him a small smile.

'Aren't you the little flatterer.' Draco muttered, but after a moment of contemplating carrying on the argument, he instead offered up his own small smile in return.

'Actually, I…' Hermione began, heading back to the table they'd been working at, and reaching under it. 'I have something for you.' she continued, lifting up her bag and dropping it onto the chair with a loud clunk. Draco's eyes widened.

'Merlin, Granger, sounds like you've got half the Library in there.' The sheepish look she gave him over her shoulder told him everything he needed to know. 'So what is this something, Granger? A self-help magical guide on how to better myself as a wizard, or maybe...' Malfoy paused as Hermione stepped in front of him, both her palms facing upward, a small egg sitting in the centre.

The constant research had made it a little easier to be in her company, without the idiotic thoughts and feelings he'd been struggling with. But every now and again she would bring it all into heart-stopping reality and he would struggle for breath, and the nervous look she was giving him officially knocked whatever air he'd had in his lungs, straight out. He'd tried to keep contact to a minimum, ever since their run-in with his friends and the broom closet. She'd been so close, and he'd almost thought that it felt nice, felt okay, and that maybe her liking him a little back wasn't impossible. But then she'd ripped herself away, and he'd wanted to curl up in a ball and die. Now though, he almost thought it might be easy again, just to reach out, test the waters with a hand against her cheek. Instead, he stepped back slightly and eyed the small object in her hands.

'Er what's this?' Draco muttered, pointing to the object suspiciously.

'It's an egg, Malfoy, have you never seen one before.' she mocked.

'Yeah but, but what's it for.'

'Erm for easter, you know the reason why we are on holiday.' Draco chuckled slightly at her mention of 'holiday', it definitely hadn't felt like it.

'Oh is that what these last few days have been, I was beginning to wonder.' Hermione scowled at him as he laughed.

'Just stop being a jerk and open it.' Draco sobered, gingerly taking the small egg from her hands, and inspecting it. It was wrapped in green paper, that was decorated with silver diamonds.

'Slytherin colours, Granger, nice.' He commented, gritting his teeth when he saw her eyes sparkle with happiness. It made his chest hurt with how good she looked when she was happy.

'Open it.' she muttered, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet with excitement. Draco nodded slowly peeling off the paper to reveal chocolate egg beneath. Draco began laughing as he saw what had been carved into its surface.

'Stroke me, Granger? Really?' He spluttered, as he laughed, leaning over and clutching his belly. Hermione blushed profusely, her hair seeming to get bushier than before, as she bristled.

'Will you just do as it says, and stop being such an immature prat.' she spat, and Draco laughed harder. 'Oh for goodness sake, if you're going to be that much of an idiot, I'll take it back.' Draco sobered somewhat and held the egg away from Hermione's reaching hands, pushing her back slightly.

'Now that's not very giving of you is it, not very Gryffindor,' He pointed out.

'Gryffindors are Chivalrous, there is nothing about giving, now give it back Malfoy.' She reached again, but Draco pushed her back with one arm.

'Come on, look, I'll do what it says, okay?' Hermione stopped trying to reach for it, and crossed her arms, looking none too impressed.

Holding back laughter, Draco ran on finger along the top of the egg, watching with wonder as it began to shake. Suddenly the surface cracked, little crumbs of chocolate falling into his open palm. Another cracked opened up and a large piece of the egg dislodged, falling onto the floor. Draco's eyes widened as he looked square into the eyes of a tiny unicorn, who looked none too impressed. It dragged its horn across the rest of the egg, obliterating it in a few short seconds, and stood on Draco's palm, stomping its hooves and shaking its body off to dislodge any extra cocoa that had managed to stick to its fur.

'I couldn't resist, what with your fetish for Unicorns.' Hermione muttered quietly, feeling slightly nervous, as the Slytherin was still just staring open-mouthed at the tiny creature, and hadn't uttered a word. 'It is just an enchantment, so you can just get rid of it.' The unicorn did not seem too impressed by this comment, and whinnied in the smallest and adorable way, stomping its hooves aggressively.

'I...I….How did you do it.' Draco muttered, looking up at Hermione with a dazed wonder that made her blush.

'Oh it's just something I read in a book, thought I would give it a go.' she said with a shrug.

'You never cease to amaze me, Granger.' Draco breathed, shaking his head. He paused suddenly when he realised what he'd said, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. 'I mean, well this, this is pretty impressive, I guess.' Draco spluttered trying to save face. He chanced a glance at Granger, who was staring down at her feet, her face bright red.

The unicorn in his palm didn't seem to appreciate the lack of attention and nipped Draco's finger.

'Ow.' Draco winced, looking down the creature, who looked rather smug.

'Oh yeah, he'll do that, he's a little bit feisty. Apparently, the creatures take on the emotions of those that make it, and well I was pretty angry at the time. You know with the whole Skeeter thing.' Draco nodded slightly.

'Aren't unicorns pretty adverse to males?' He questioned, drawing the tiny unicorn closer to his face and inspecting it. As if sensing the attention in turned its back to Draco and revealed its backside, lifting its tail for extra effect. 'Charming sod isn't he?' He added, giving Hermione a withering look.

'He's...different.' Hermione sighed. 'I did the enchantment so that it would only look like a unicorn, I didn't bother with the traits, it would have taken forever.' she muttered amusedly.

'Well, er…' Draco scratched the back of his head sheepishly, 'I didn't get you anything.' He muttered. Hermione grinned, waving a hand in front of her face.

'Don't worry about it, I was making some for Ron and Harry, and I just thought...anyway I best get to bed.' she muttered, gathering up her things, and hastily leaving the Library. Draco watched her go, noticing she was a deeper shade of red than normal. He smiled, looking down at the animal in his hand, that was snuffling at his palm. Cautiously he lifted a finger and stroked its back, after a moment of serious consideration the Unicorn seemed to reach the decision that Draco paying him attention wasn't the worst idea and allowed him to carry on.

He wondered if this meant that they were friends now. She had made matching eggs for Harry and Ron, and they were her best friends, the three of them constantly attached at the hip.

'I'm an idiot.' Draco muttered, shaking his head, he knew that being friends with Granger was probably the worst idea he'd ever had. The unicorn snorted it what seemed like agreement, and Draco grinned. Slowly he gathered his stuff together, carrying the unicorn delicately in his hands, all the way back to the dungeons.

'Best keep you out of the way of Pansy, she is going to love you.' He muttered, laughing when the Unicorn's eyes seemed to bulge out of its head in fright.


	28. A Talking Bug

Draco slammed his quill onto the table, splattering spots of ink across the scroll in front of him. The small unicorn, that had been sniffing around some snugger cubes that, Draco had managed to get him from the kitchen, jumped a mile, galloping behind some books. He emerged sometime later, his mane frazzled, and a less than impressed look on his face.

Draco ignored the tiny creature, burying his head in the palm of his hands, and groaning. The stupid, prissy Gryffindor was getting on his nerves. Infuriating him, and he could swear she was doing it on purpose. Why else would she spend time with him, make like they were friends, even give him a present and then proceed to ignore him completely?

The Golden trio seemed to be pallier than ever though, wandering around the corridors, their three heads pressed together as they had their own little private conversations that excluded the rest of the wizarding world, who were far lesser beings. He curled his hand into a fist and hit the table, sending his ink pot into the air. It landed with a crash, and blue ink spread across the wood, sinking slowly into the grains. Draco didn't bother to clear it up. The unicorn whinnied and began to splash about in the spilt liquid, seeming, for once, to thoroughly enjoy himself.

Draco had noticed that the present Hermione had given him, was incredibly similar to her. It was more than just it's moods, which were, more often than not, terrible. The small thing loved ink and quills, and it seemed more at home around books than it did outside. He'd made that mistake once, thinking that a bit of fresh air would do the little guy some good, only to find that he spent the entire time burrowing his way deeper into Malfoy's pocket, shaking in fear. A trip to the library had sorted him right out, he'd clopped about on the table, neighing and whinnying so much that Malfoy had given up on his homework to watch him.

Draco grit his teeth, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling of the common room. He didn't want to be bothered. He'd given himself several dressing downs on the matter, only to find that it did absolutely nothing. He'd see her in the corridor, or stare at her during meal times, and nothing changed. He wasn't suddenly cured of his obsession and infatuation, and the anger he felt at being ignored, at being pushed to the side, burned ever brighter.

'She's burned her bridges now.' Draco said matter-of-factly, glancing down at his small companion, whose legs were turning a brilliant shade of blue as he splashed about in the ink some more. 'Won't be any coming back after this.' He muttered with a nod. The unicorn had stopped and was pinning him with a stare that told him exactly what he feared. He wasn't fooling anyone, least of all a unicorn the size of a snitch, who wasn't even supposed to understand what he was saying.

'Salazar, I need help.' Draco groaned, once again covering his face with both his hands. If he spoke to her, what would he say? He couldn't tell her that he hated how much time she was spending with Scarface and Weasel, the world's crappiest hero and his just as unfortunate sidekick. He couldn't tell her that he missed her and that her not wanting to see him, to talk to him, actually hurt. He couldn't say any of that, because...well because pride, and dignity, and because if anyone knew he thought or felt like that, he'd be a laughing stock.

He realised he'd been over the same thoughts before, and always come to the same startling conclusions. He leant forward in his chair picking up his quill and dangling the end of it in front of the unicorn, smiling as it pulled a face when the feather tickled the end of its nose. It sneezed in the most adorable way, before deciding to take a chunk out of it, and chew on it happily.

'By Salazar that is the cutest thing I've ever seen.' Draco winced as Pansy screeched, bustling across the common room. With a grin she pressed her face as close as she could to the tiny unicorn that was desperately trying to hide behind Draco's arm, burrowing his face into the material of his shirt.

'Can you go be you, somewhere else.' He breathed, rubbing his face with both his hands. Pansy had managed to pull the unicorn into her hands and was shoving it close to her face, screeching slightly when the petrified animal bit the end of her nose. Draco watched in mild amusement as the unicorn whinnied in panic, trying to wiggle free of the brown haired witch's grasp.

'Where did you get this little guy.' She asked, rubbing her cheek against the unicorn's fur, grinning happily.

'That would be filed under, none of your business Parkinson, now would you put him down?' He asked. Pansy begrudgingly place him back on the desk. With a snort, it clopped its way behind a pile of books, where, periodically, it would cast suspicious glances around the corner.

'What's his name?' Pansy asked, leaning back against the table, trying to look past the pile of books to the unicorns hiding place.

'He doesn't have one.' Draco said simply, shrugging.

'What?! But he's got to have one. He's too cute not to.' Draco rolled his eyes, turning to the brown haired witch in exasperation.

'And I care why?'

'Because he's cute and I'm telling you that you have to. Now, how about Speckles?'

'Please tell me you are attempting to be witty, I would hate to think that was all you could come up with.'

'Oh har de har, aren't you the joker.' Pansy scowled down at him, pushing herself off the desk and stalking over to the fire. 'I thought it would be a good name, you know, because of all the ink on his legs.'

Draco looked at the pile of books, grinning as he caught the unicorn chancing a look nervously. When thoroughly convinced the threat had moved on elsewhere, he wandered out from behind the books and dipped on hoof tentatively into the ink. Draco had to admit that he did have blue speckles, dotted all up his white legs, and while not the most imaginative of names, it did seem the most appropriate.

'So what you think?' Draco muttered, leaning on his arms so his face was close to the animal. While he'd given into talking to him, he didn't particularly want anyone else to know that he did. 'Speckles a good name?' The unicorn looked affronted, his head pulled back in utter disgust and disbelief. Draco couldn't help but laugh, a wide grin spreading across his face as the unicorn moodily showed his backside.

'I don't think he likes that name, Pans.' Draco said, chuckling to himself.

'Who doesn't like what name?' Blaise asked. The tall boy wandered over to Draco's desk, looking somewhat dishevelled.

'Draco's got a unicorn,' Pansy pointed out, from her seat by the fire, ignoring the look Draco was cutting her.

'You've got a what?" Blaise spluttered, his eyes finally landing on the animal in question, who was flicking his tail lazily and appraising Blaise in a rather bored manner.

'Wow,' He muttered, creeping forward slowly as if frightened he would spook it. 'Where did you get that?'

'Why is everyone so concerned with my business recently?' Draco snapped, making Blaise raise an eyebrow in his general direction.

'Fine, keep your secrets,' he shrugged, standing up to his full height and dumping his bag on the floor. 'You named it yet?'

'No, no I haven't, now if there isn't anything else, would you kindly, bugger off.' Draco bit out. Blaise stepped back, raising his arms in surrender, backing off towards the fireplace where Pansy was sat.

'What did you do?' Blaise muttered as he made himself comfortable in a chair across from her, looking back over his shoulder to check that Draco couldn't hear them. The blonde didn't move, and Blaise figured he was safe.

'I didn't do anything.' Pansy scoffed, looking rather affronted. 'He was laughing a moment ago.' Pansy pointed out.

In spite of what his friends thought, he could hear them perfectly well, Pansy had never been one for keeping her voice down, and Blaise's deep voice cut through most noise. He didn't mean to snap at them, though he would never admit it. Their questions skirted dangerously close to Granger territory, and that was a conversation that he never wanted. He could imagine the looks on all their faces, then the general disbelief, possible hexing, the usual Slytherin shenanigans. He remembered one Halloween, when a sixth year had admitted to getting all too close and personal, with someone of the heroic lion persuasion. The uproar in the common room had been of grand proportions, and Draco was in no doubt, that by the end of the proceedings, the sixth year was in no mood to go within 10ft of a Gryffindor.

'I don't think he's sleeping properly you know?' Pansy speculated, casting glances over at Draco, before leaning closer to Blaise conspiratorily, 'would account for his mood being so erratic.'

'Figures, Crabbe and Goyle aren't known for being quiet sleepers.' Pansy nodded to herself as if Blaise's words had confirmed her suspicions. She cast another glance at the boy in question, frowning slightly.

He had been out of sorts the past few weeks, seeming more on edge and irritable than ever before. Pansy figured it was something to do with his mystery girl, but all investigation into her identity had been met with a brick wall, or Theo and Blaise shaking her head and telling her to back off. The two idiots had been anything but helpful, but she had not given up. There was a girl, she knew it, could feel it in her bones. She also figured that the small unicorn had something to do with her as well.

'What in Merlin's name is that?' Pansy was brought out of her thoughts by Theo's excited voice, he was leaning over Draco's table a smile plastered on his face. Draco mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

'Has he got a name?' Pansy winced, as she watched Draco's handshake.

'What is it with you idiots and names, yes he does have a name, it's called Keep-you-nose-out-of-my-business Malfoy. You happy?' The smile dropped from Theo's face, as he glanced across the room in panic, looking for help from his two friends. Pansy shook her head at him and gestured that he should back away.

Theo walked towards her, his eyes wide in shock, his face a little pale. 'Sooooo, what or who annoyed the ferret?' He pointed over his shoulder and flopped down onto the sofa, looking at Blaise and Pansy, in turn, both of them shrugged.

'Pansy seems to think it's lack of sleep.' Blaise muttered, staring into the fire.

'What are you, his mother? And I'm sorry, the albino sleeps like the dead, I should know, I'm the one who has the particularly nasty business of waking him up every morning. I've got scars.' Theo said desperately.

'You know, I can hear you.' Draco muttered, giving his friends a dark look. They looked up at him innocently, before shifting closer to one another, mumbling under their breath. Draco sighed, leaving them to it, he was tired of their questions, and the constant worrying looks that Pansy felt the need to keep giving him as if he were dying from some horrible wizarding disease.

With a huff he rose from his chair, taking the small unicorn in his hands and tucking him in the front pocket of his shirt. He made his way towards the door, hoping that they wouldn't notice him retreating.

'Oh Drake, mate. Vinny and Greg are looking for you, they were blabbering on about a talking bug.' The Slytherin said with a shrug, 'one too many screws loose, methinks.' He muttered, shifting in his chair, trying to make himself comfortable.

Draco for once, allowed himself a small grin, knowing exactly who was waiting to meet him. One thing that always made him feel better was exacting revenge on the person he hated the most, stupid Scarface. With a nod, he left the common room.

Pansy turned to Theo, shaking her head. 'You do realise who that is don't you?'

'Who's what?' Theo asked, his eyes already closed and his head resting on the back of the couch.

'Oh never mind.' She uttered, rolling her eyes, stretching out her legs, balancing them on Blaise's lap. He gave them a look, before turning back to the fire.

They were silent for quite some time, and soon Theo was snoring lightly.

'Sorrel.' Blaise suddenly muttered, his eyes not leaving the embers of the fire.

'What?' Pansy frowned, leaning forward in her chair to catch what her fellow Slytherin was saying.

'Sorrel, that's what Draco should call his unicorn, Sorrel Darling Mane.' Pansy simply stared at him, her mouth opening and closing.

'Is that what you've been thinking about, all this time?' she asked in sheer disbelief. Blaise cringed slightly.

'A little bit, yeah.'

'You're an idiot you know that?'

'On the contrary Pansy, I think he's a genius.' Both of them turned to a grinning Theo, who clearly appreciated the name. 'Came up with that all on your own?' Blaise nodded enthusiastically.

'You two are morons.' Pansy said with a shake of her head.

'Ah you speak dear Parkinson, but all I hear is jealousy.' Theo said dramatically, and Blaise chuckled. Pansy dug her heel into the boy's leg, grinning as he winced.

'Footrest privileges can be taken away, Parkinson.' Blaise muttered darkly, and Pansy smiled back at him sweetly.

'Horny Horsington, small in stature, big in everything else, if you know what I mean.' Theo said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

'Oh you are disgusting, how can you make something so sweet and cute sound so...so urgh.' Pansy said exasperated, as both boys fell about laughing. Blaise wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes, shoulders shaking,

'You have to admit, it's a little bit funny Pans.' Pansy grimaced, but allowed herself a small smile, she supposed it was funny, but it would be over her dead body the day she ever admitted that.

'Who do you suppose gave it him?' she whispered, moving across to sit next to Theo, tucking her feet beneath her, and leaning her head on the arm of the chair. After a few moments, Blaise started playing with strands of her hair, that fell down in the gap between the chairs. He only ever did it when there was no chance that the others could see him.

'I don't know, who says anyone did?' Blaise shrugged, he glanced at Pansy quickly, then glanced away, too embarrassed to hold her gaze.

'Well, he got pretty defensive when I asked him about it.'

'Urschel Hoof.' Theo said, in answer to her question.

'I'm being serious.' Pansy spluttered, lifting her head up slightly, to look at the brown-haired boy. He had his eyes closed again.

'So am I, Urschel is a fantastic name.'

'I don't know, I think you outdid yourself with Horny Horsington.' Blaise added.

'I did, didn't I?'

'Will you two take something seriously for once in your miserable, pea-brained lives.' Theo and Blaise cast each other amused glances before turning back to Pansy.

'We are taking this seriously, very seriously. In fact, I think this is the most I've thought about something, all day.'

'Same.' Blaise muttered, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.

'I'm not on about the unicorn, I'm on about….'

'Draco,' Blaise finished for her, 'we know. That's all you seem to bang on about these days. No offence Pans, but conversations with you are starting to feel a bit like deja vu.'

'That rhymed,' Theo pointed out with a grin, 'which makes it undoubtedly true.' He said, suppressing the smile to look at Pansy seriously. Pansy seemed to be silently fuming, her lips pressed into a thin line. After some time remaining quiet, she stood up moodily.

'Well,' she said, in a clipped voice, 'I at least want to know what business he had with Skeeter.' before walking out of the room.

'Did she just say Skeeter?' Blaise asked, watching her go. 'Isn't she a journalist.' Theo shrugged, not bothering to open his eyes.

'Who knows. What about Lewi Longhorn.' Blaise considered it for a minute, then shook his head.

'Nah mate, you had with Horny Horsington.'

'I did, didn't I.' He said, grinning happily to himself.


	29. Masarvas Charm

Ron groaned as a hex hit his chest, sending him flying back. He landed in a heap, narrowly missing the cushions Hermione had strategically laid out for him to fall onto. Hermione tutted, shaking her head as she rushed to the ginger-haired boys' aid.

'How many times have I told you, land on the cushions, Ronald, they aren't for decoration you know.' she admonished, helping him up into a seated position.

'Don't really have much control over where I land, do I?' Ron bit back, wincing as he tried to stand. They had practiced spells numerous times, the effects of which were mapped across his skin in a pattern of fresh bruises. 'I have said this before, haven't I?" He asked, looking at Harry for support. The black haired boy simply shrugged, glancing down at the list of spells Hermione had written for him, too tired to get into an argument with the pair of them.

The list was extensive, the scroll dragging against the floor as Harry held it in his hand. As far as he could see, Hermione had covered all possibilities, every eventuality. He allowed himself a small smile of gratitude, glancing up at his bushy-haired friend, as she re-arranged the cushions on the floor.

'Anyway, I thought Harry had mastered the stunning spell? I should know, I've still got the bruises to prove it.' To reiterate his point, Ron rolled up his sleeve, showing them both the yellowing bruises peppering his arm.

'It's always good to go over them, it keeps them fresh in his mind. Anyway, stop complaining, he's only done it once.' Hermione muttered, tipping her head to admire her handiwork.

'It's alright for you to say, you haven't been blasted with every spell imaginable,' turning to Harry he continued, 'I still think we should try those out on Crookshanks.' He gestured to the list in Harry's hand'

'Ronald Weasley, to even suggest such a thing, is...is, it's just cruel.'

'Well I happen to think subjecting me to this, is cruel.' Hermione rolled her eyes, and climbed to her feet, brushing off her skirt with a sigh.

'You agreed to help, Harry needs to test it on someone. Plus who better to help him with this, than his best friend.'' she shrugged, thinking that she was starting to sound mildly Slytherin, her words more manipulative and persuasive than they were usually. She allowed herself a small amount of pride though, as Ron kept muttering to himself, but did not aim any particular argument her way.

She rolled her eyes as he slumped into a corner, casting a rather unhappy look out towards the Hogwarts grounds. Training for the third task was proving hard, and scary; every day that passed brought Harry closer to stepping into the Maze, where only Merlin knew what was waiting for him. The mere thought had Hermione burying her nose in yet more books, checking for any hexes or spells that she had overlooked.

Hermione cast a glance at her two friends and allowed herself a small smile. There was no denying that the school year so far had dragged the three of them apart, opening up rifts in their friendship that she hadn't even been aware existed. Now though, she felt that those rifts were closing, that they were finally coming back together. Though threat loomed, she found herself enjoying being with her friends again.

Malfoy though, annoyingly, infuriatingly, remained on her mind, and she couldn't help but feeling a little guilty, for not spending time with the blonde Slytherin. She shook her head, almost laughing at how unbelievably crazy her thought process was. Not long back, she'd have hexed anyone who suggested that she, Hermione Jean Granger, would ever be anything but the enemy of the Draco Malfoy.

Not for the first time, Hermione worried over their tentative friendship, nibbling her bottom lip as she thought of how long it had been since they'd actually spoken. He'd been happy with his present, and for days after he'd thrown small smiles across the room when no one was looking. Those smiles had made her a lot happier than she was willing to admit to herself, but they'd stopped, almost as quickly as they'd started.

'Right, Harry, what's next on the list?' she asked, tapping her foot lightly on the stone floor. Harry had picked up one of her books while he'd been waiting, flicking through it lazily.

'What about this?' He asked, gesturing to the page in front of him, 'I don't think this is on the list, it might come in handy?' he suggested, lifting the book closer to his face.

'What's that?' she asked, walking across the room, and settling down next to him. Hermione read the page, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline, her mouth opening and closing in surprise. She couldn't believe she had missed it, in fact, she was almost certain she couldn't have missed it, and yet there it was. The Masarvas Charm.

'Give that here.' Hermione said, and Harry quickly handed her the book, a small frown of confusion crinkling his forehead. With shaking hands, Hermione began to read.

 _The Masarvas Charm - Hide things in plain sight, and no one will find them. The name of this spell originates from the Veela word, for 'keeper of' (Masarvas). The Masarvas Family, renowned for their Veela lineage, were keepers of secrets, this is one of their most famous spells, dating back to the very origins of magic._

'Of course,' Hermione exclaimed, nearly dropping the book as realization hit her square in the face.

'What?' Harry asked, staring at the book and then back up at Hermione, his eyes wide.

'How could I have been so blind,' she breathed, her eyes scanning the words again, in case she had misread, but it was there, black ink against parchment, very, very real.

'What is it, Hermione?' Harry asked again, huffing slightly at not being in on whatever piece of enlightenment Hermione had found.

'It's nothing,' Hermione muttered, 'just..just that everything I've been looking for has been staring me right in the face.' Harry stared incredulously at the side of her face, still no closer to understanding what the young witch was talking about.

'Can I use it?' Harry asked.

'Use what?' Hermione muttered, not even bothering to look up from the book as she spoke to him.

'The spell, Hermione, can I use the spell?' Harry said, exasperated, waving his hand in front of his friends face, in order to drag her out of whatever world she'd disappeared into.

'Oh, the spell...right..right.' Hermione glanced down at the spell again, then back up at Harry, shaking her head. 'No, it might be a spell of concealment, but it only conceals objects, closing up doorways and the like. Living creatures are much more difficult to conceal, because of moving parts. I don't see how it will help you inside the maze. Might be something to note down though, for later use.' Hermione said, marking the page of the book off, before snapping it shut, and stealthily slipping it into her bag. Her heart was racing in her chest at the prospect of telling Malfoy what she had found, in fact, she was almost tempted to put off the training and rush of an tell him at that very moment. If she was right, then she was pretty sure she knew what happened to the all the magical artefacts, and where to find them again.

Harry sighed, falling back onto the cushion he had nicked from Hermione's pile, wiggling about to make himself more comfortable. He pressed his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose and perused the list with tired eyes, he wasn't sure that his brain could soak up much more information, but he knew Hermione would push him till he did.

'Right, jinx's.' he said, stifling a yawn. 'Seriously Hermione, where did you find all this.' Hermione flushed with pride as her friend offered her a small smile, over the top of the large piece of scroll he was holding.

'I have my ways. Some of them will be useless, but it doesn't hurt to have them there as a point of reference, just in case.' she smirked, before clambering to her feet. 'Now come on,' the young witch clapped her hands together, 'It's time we cracked on.'

'You're starting to sound like Mum.' Ron muttered, as he slowly made his way towards Harry and Hermione, his head lowered. With heavy sighs, he shuffled over to where Hermione had arranged the cushions, grimly preparing for whatever Jinx Harry would send his way.

They practised a few more spells, before deciding to call it a day, the sun was getting low in the sky, they were all tired, and Ron was looking somewhat worse for wear. Added to that, the ginger-haired boys' complaints were starting to get on both Harry and Hermione's nerves. He rather pompously pointed out, that any lasting damage would be on their heads, then had proceeded to turn a dark shade of red, when Hermione pointed out that any lasting damage, stood a good chance of being an improvement.

Needless to say, the comment had lead to Ron flat out refusing to be used for Harry's target practice.

'Really Ron, he needs to practice, the task is only days away.' Hermione chastised, biting back a laugh as Ron stomped rather comically over to the window, pressing his face against the glass. A particularly nasty jinx had left him covered in warts. The warts themselves had long since disappeared, but his skin remained a similar shade to his brightly coloured hair, and incredibly sore.

'Don't you think I've suffered enough?' He spat, turning slightly to the witch, gesturing to his face, before slumping against the cool glass.

Hermione sighed before consulting her list, grinning at the sheer amount of spells they had managed to cross out. She knew some of them were very creature specific, and most likely would not be needed, but better safe than sorry, and she needed Harry to be safe.

'You're doing well though, Harry, not many more to go through.' she showed Harry the list, and he nodded rather half-heartedly. Hermione examined him, her head tipped to the side in sympathy. The young wizard was once again sat amongst the cushions, twiddling his wand between his fingers, his messy black hair falling down into his eyes. She understood his lack of enthusiasm, every spell simply reminding him that he would have to again risk his life, for a tournament he hadn't even wanted to enter. Hermione wondered if there would ever be a moment that Harry Potter would get a break from all the things he seemed to get involved with.

'Some of these are bound to be at least, a little useful.' she reiterated, smiling brightly down at Harry, before nodding at the list, as if confirming her statement to be fact.

'Hey, you guys, come and look at this.' Ron called, waving his hand wildly in the air. Harry and Hermione cast each other questioning glances before heading towards the window and standing either side of Ron.

It was growing dim outside, the sun was setting, casting a yellow glow over the black lake, making it burn orange. The sky was streaked with a dizzying array of colours, and Hermione allowed herself a small smile as she enjoyed the view. She had not noticed the change in weather, too busy having her head buried in a book, or sneaking off late at night to meet a Slytherin; now though, she took time to admire the grounds. She breathed a small sigh, as she watched the trees, lush with green leaves and blossom moving lazily in the wind; birds skittered along the surface of the black lack, some of them settling atop the mast of Durmstrang's ship, preening their feathers happily. She was so distracted by the view, she almost missed the very thing that had caught Ron's attention.

'Wonder what that git's up to.' He muttered, tapping the glass as if he were trying to squash a bug. Hermione looked towards where he was pointing and grimaced when she realised what git she was on about.

Draco Malfoy was stood beneath a tree, Crabbe and Goyle either side of him, matching grins marring their features. Draco was muttering at something in his hands, sporting his own malevolent grin, that sent Hermione's stomach knotting uncomfortably. Something told her, that no matter what Malfoy was up to, it wasn't good. She wondered if he'd maybe taken her spending less time with him, to heart, presuming the Slytherin had one. Hermione shook her head, knowing that wasn't fair, conversations with the boy had shown that he did, in fact, feel things, it was just buried under sarcasm and pettiness.

Hermione thought how he'd reacted when she'd accidentally stood him up, during the second task. That had been one occasion, and afterwards, he hadn't spoken to her for weeks. Her not meeting up with him, in order to train with Harry seemed like something that would annoy him. Hermione chastised herself when she started to feel bad. If Malfoy went in a mood over something so petty, then she would let him. Her friend's life was at stake, and that, as far as she was concerned, was far more important than keeping a pompous pureblood happy.

'Looks like he's using a walkie-talkie.' (AN: From the book, not mine) Harry commented, pressing his forehead against the glass to get a better look.

'He can't be, I've told you, those sort of things don't work in Hogwarts.' (AN: Again from the book) She moved away from the window, trying to ignore how worried she was. Sure Malfoy was an idiot, that overreacted in the most childish of ways, but she had known his paddy's cause some real harm, like buckbeak. She couldn't imagine what he had up his sleeve, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be very good for Harry. Shaking her head, she turned brightly to Harry.

'Right, shall we try the shielding charm?' Both boys seemed less than impressed with the idea but pulled themselves away from the window begrudgingly.


	30. The Daily Prophet

'How could you?' Hermione's voice rang through the empty corridor, biting through whatever peace Draco had managed to attain, and snapping him out of his own thoughts. He cast a sullen glance towards the sound and sighed, the small witch was marching toward him, the Daily prophet rolled up in one hand and brandished like a weapon. With a groan he pushed himself off the wall - getting her attention had been part of his little scheme now though he realised, he wasn't getting out of it unscathed.

'Ah Granger, to what do I owe this pleasure?' He asked smirking slightly as Hermione bristled.

'You know exactly why I'm here, you pompous git, how-could-you?' Draco winced as Hermione whacked him across the head, punctuating every word with tiny, but rather painful, exclamation marks.

'Am I supposed to know why you're beating me with press?' He asked coldly, lowering his arms when he was certain she had stopped attacking him.

'The Skeeter article? Harry Potter implicated in student attacks? Friends with werewolves and giants? Do anything for a bit of power?' Hermione paused, glaring at him, 'Courtesy of Draco Malfoy, any of this ringing a bell?'

'Ah yes, that.' Draco commented, glancing down at the paper still rolled up in her small hands. Draco cringed as his thoughts wandered the realms of how easily the Gryffindors hands would fit into his own. Shaking his head he looked back up at Hermione, who was fuming to the point of smoke exiting her ears. 'Well, they weren't lies.' He shrugged, wincing in regret when she started hitting him again.

'You manipulative, deceitful little prat.'

'Granger stop...stop hitting me.' He grabbed her wrist with one hand, wrenching the paper from her with the other. He opened it out with a flourish, giving the angry witch a pointed look, before turning away to inspect his handiwork. 'I don't see what's got your hair in such a frizz,' He shrugged, 'a bit of publicity will be good for ole Scarface, get his name out there.' He added sarcastically. Hermione's eyes widened incredulously.

'You can't be that much of an idiot. You knew this would hurt him, would hurt me, and you went and did it anyway.'

'Er, Slytherin.' Hermione gave him an appraising look, scoffing and shaking her head.

'Oh, so we're back to stereotypes? I thought that you Slytherins were all just misunderstood heroes, victims of a dusty old hat, forever condemned to the fate of being bullies, what changed your mind?'

Her sarcasm annoyed him somewhat. There weren't many occasions that he'd actually voiced some of the thoughts that rattled round in his head, but he'd made an exception, and now she was using it against him.

'Honestly Granger, you're overreacting.'

'Oh, really and why would that be?' Hermione asked, hands on her hips and foot tapping erratically against the stone floor.

'Potty and I haven't exactly got on, ever,' he lifted the Daily Prophet, to once again peruse the article he'd practically given Skeeter, gift wrapped with well wishes, 'Besides, what's a bit of banter amongst long-term enemies. He should expect it really.'

Hermione wondered why she'd ever thought Draco could be anything but a huge pompous jerk. His reaction after the second task should have been warning enough, a huge red flag over whatever friendship they had somehow managed to strike up. With a huff, Hermione hurled herself at the boy, curling her hands into fists and reigning down blow after blow, with as much force as she could muster.

Draco reeled back in shock, chucking the paper to one side and lifting his arms up to protect himself from the oncoming attack. With great difficulty, he managed to capture her wrists again, holding on to the tightly, as Hermione struggled.

'Will. You. Stop.' He said, through gritted teeth, trying to ignore how his skin warmed at the connection, the telltale spark of the Sensieve's magic dancing up his arms.

Hermione pushed and pulled, trying desperately to get out of his grip, her eyes the darkest shade of brown he'd ever seen them, her mouth set in a hard line.

'Let - me - go - Malfoy.' Her words punctuated by her attempts to wrench herself free.

'No can do, Granger, you're being hysterical.'

'Hysterical?...Hysterical? You spread foul lies about my best friend, I think I have every right to be hysterical.' she spat, all the while lessening her attempts to break free. She was acutely aware of the Sensieve's magic growing in the air, making it difficult to concentrate. With great difficulty, she ignored it, cutting her eyes up at the Slytherin.'You knew how I felt about that Skeeter woman, you knew how much I despised her, and you...you tattled to her.' Draco snorted.

'Tattled? Hardly. I told a rather brightly dressed reporter a few truths, that she may, or may not, have already known. Anyway, what makes you think that any of this, had anything to do with you.' He quickly dropped her wrists, turning to walk away before she could answer.

He lowered his head, trying to ignore the witches protests as she followed him down the corridor. She was right of course, the only reason he would ever talk to that infernal woman was to get a rise from Granger. It was her fault for ignoring him.

'Will you stop.' Hermione screeched.

'Or what, Granger? You going to hex me?'

'Don't tempt me.' Hermione spat. Two second-year Slytherins who'd been talking in an alcove appeared to vaguely interested in the prospect of a fight. Draco shot them a look, and they both bustled away, once again leaving the corridor empty.

Draco stopped as Hermione managed to circle round in front of him. 'Regardless of how I feel about it, this is the last thing Harry needs.' Draco scowled angrily down at her.

'You think I care what Super Specs needs?'

'Perhaps you should, this isn't a game Malfoy, this is more than just some petty classroom rivalry, it's..this is real life, actual problems, actual dangers. Harry could...he could actually die.' Hermione's voice shook more than she'd wanted it to. Her worries for Harry had always been real, now though they were tangible, words floating in the air that she couldn't ignore. Harry could die.

'And what a downright shame that would be.' Draco drawled and Hermione hit him again. 'Ow...look either way it's his own fault he's in this mess. Eternal glory was obviously too much of a heroic hard on, for him to pass up.' Hermione recoiled slightly at his words, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

'Harry didn't put his name in the…'

'Like he'd tell his goody-two-shoes-best friend that he cheated. Hate to break it you Granger, but good ole Potter is your average everyday attention whore, with more dramatic outbursts per day than you can shake your wand at, and lace-up knee-high-boots to match.' Draco once again stepped round a gobsmacked Hermione, digging his hands into his pockets.

'Someone is trying to kill him, doesn't that mean anything to you?' Draco paused, glancing over his shoulder in a bored manner.

'Should it?' His raised an eyebrow as Hermione opened and closed her mouth in surprise.

'Yes...how can you...why..'

'Perhaps you should let whoever it is, put him out of his misery.' Hermione blinked several times, her eyes wide in shock. Draco was a Malfoy, and with that came the expectation that he would ultimately be a dick, but Hermione was certain that she'd seen glimmers of goodness in him. Whatever held that side of him back, she wished it would drop the act, because keeping up with his mood swings was getting tiring.

'Why are you so...infuriating?' she breathed, all energy to argue leaving her as fast as it had arrived.

'I am a Malfoy.' He pointed out smugly.

'Why can't you be a Malfoy somewhere else?' The comment hurt, a nice stabbing pain in his chest.

'And miss out on these thrilling conversations?' He bit out sarcastically watching as Hermione rolled her eyes.

'You know, it never ceases to amaze me how much of a dick you can be. Just when I think you've reached dickish heights you go ahead and surprise me.'

'It's my pleasure.' Draco cut in. Hermione barely even acknowledged him, continuing with her rant.

'If you tried, I'm sure you and Harry could get on, maybe even be friends, but you don't want to because Merlin forbid you should try to be nice.' Her words infuriated him, he knew he could be a dick, it was a fact of life, a fact his own friends reminded him of every day. But he was sick of Scarhead being treated like some sort of Demigod, a spectre of goodness that could do no harm.

'You're mates with a poor lonely orphan, whose constant need for validation sends him, and the rest of your pathetic golden gang, spiralling from one deadly magical conspiracy to the next, and I'm the one with issues?' Anger flared once again in Hermione's gut, she stepped forward poking Malfoy in the chest as she spoke.

'You're the one spreading pathetic little lies, why do you want people to hate him so much?'

'As far as I can see, Scarface could do with someone taking a pin to his overinflated ego. How in Merlin's name does someone fail so spectacularly in class, but get branded a great wizard, just because he's so dense that the killing curse, quite literally, bent around him.'

Hermione hadn't realised she'd slapped him, till she felt the sting of it in her fingers, and saw the red welt rising in Draco's cheek. He looked astounded, more astounded than when she'd punched him the year before.

Draco cheek hurt, the sting of it forcing tears to his eyes. He wanted to hex her into oblivion, hold her, hit her, kiss her till she ran out of breath and couldn't scream at him anymore, couldn't hurt him. He thoughts jumbled around in his head making him want to run away. He was a proud Malfoy and no one was supposed to get away with hitting him. And yet there she stood, gnawing on her bottom lip in the most enticing way.

'You might not care about people Malfoy, but I do care about Harry, and I won't let you or anyone else hurt him.' Draco grit his teeth. Potter this, Potter that, always, always Potter. Without fail it always came back to Scarface. 'Of course, you do, Mudblood.' Draco spat, pouring all his hurt and hate into the word, till it felt like spitting venom.

'Don't call me that.' Draco swallowed the guilt in the back of his throat as he heard her voice shake.

'I'm sorry,' Draco mocked, sneering down at her, 'does my pointing out your filthy blood upset you?' Gritting her teeth, Hermione turned away, storming down the corridor, trying desperately not to cry.

'Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you, bucktooth.' He shouted, rushing after her.

'Why?' Hermione suddenly said, whipping around to face him, making him stumble, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. She noticed the look of confusion that flickered across the blonde's features before getting lost in the malice.

'What?' Hermione thought his sneer was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.

'Why do you always do this?' Hermione asked. Draco said nothing, trying his best not to falter, even though, for once, an apology was on the tip of his tongue.

'Something happens that you're not okay with, that upsets you in some way or another and you revert back to the old you; calling me names, pointing out my filthy blood, acting like a spoilt child.'

'Watch it, Granger.' He ground out.

'Why touch a nerve did I? I wonder what I should expect the next time I choose to spend time with my friends instead of you, going to tell Daddy?'

'You have no right to talk about my father.' Draco spat, taking a step back in panic, wondering if she knew everything else, like the way he'd been looking at her recently. His hands balled into fists; she'd hit him twice, wounded his pride more time than he could count, and she had the infernal habit of always being so snootily in the right. He wanted to wipe the smirk off her pretty face.

Hermione's eyes widened suddenly, her breath catching as the walls of the corridor began to melt away, replaced with moving pictures. The green pillars glimmered into focus and rain began to fall from the ceiling, huge warm drops that began to soak through her uniform. Hermione glanced at Draco when she heard him groan. She smiled slightly as the Sensieve rose out of the floor, it had been so long since it had made an appearance, and Hermione had desperately wanted to find out what had happened to Sonyea. Sighing slightly, she relaxed as the Sensieve's magic grew in the air, and allowed it to pull her into its depths.


	31. Sonyea

Rain splashed into her face as she ran, the cold of it stinging her cheeks. In the darkness, she tripped falling into the mud heavily. Gritting her teeth, she gripped the sodden earth beneath her, her fingers closing around clumps of mud, as she heaved herself back onto her feet. Gathering her sodden skirt into her hands, she lifted it as high as she could and began running, ignoring the burn in her lungs. The familiar prickle of fear danced beneath her skin and stood the hair up at the base of her neck. It had become a constant companion over the few weeks that she had not heard from Sonyea, pumping through her veins, as much a part of her as her own blood.

She was certain the body had been that of a young man, lying in the entrance to Sonyea's hideaway, his skin puffed and bloated in the dampness of the cave. The air had been thick with the smell of death, and Mina had retched in the corner, her stomach turning with fear and disgust. There had been no sign of her friend, even the chairs she had transfigured, had returned to being rocks, no longer under the influence of her magic. When Mina had searched, not a scrap of her friends magic remained, telling her that wherever she had gone, she had left some time ago.

Lights from the village dotted the horizon and Mina sped up, gripping the notice in her hands even harder, almost recoiling at the feel of slick wet parchment pressed against her skin. The ink had long since been washed away, but she could it as if it were burnt upon her eyes. The words bold and black scrawled in a sickeningly artful way. **Notice of Execution.**

The letters had wobbled in and out of focus as she'd read the names. Most of them were faceless, fellow witches and wizards reduced to black scrawl upon the pages, their lives limited to a time and a place. But one had stood out, had screamed at her, reached out with all its impossibility and gripped her with panic.

There was already a crowd, men and women mingling in the square, their voices barely audible over the sound of the wind and rain, as if the whole of life had been muted, and only her heart pounding in her chest could be heard. She swallowed the burn of anger as she looked from face to face, those that had come out in droves to watch death with sick fascination. Coats tugged around their bodies, feet stamping the floor to keep out the chill, and the excited wide-eyed search as they waited for the prisoners to be brought out. Waited for her friend to meet her end. She wondered if they'd cheer if they'd look into the eyes of those they had condemned and actually cheer at their passing.

Her hands curled into fists as she thought of how she'd defended them, how she'd fought openly for things to be different, for bridges to be built, for the people before her to be free from the wrath of men like Arden. But against the flickering torchlight, she saw their ugliness, and it made her want to hurt them.

The sky lightened somewhat slowly, the sun choked out by the thick grey clouds that continued to spill out sheets of rain, the drops splashing in puddles at Mina's feet, and bouncing back up. Mina's stomach turned as she noticed the gallows, ropes hanging down in preparation for the execution, swaying side to side in the faint wind. With great determination, she went to move forward but stopped suddenly. Her body frozen in place as she looked up.

Two guards walked up the wooden steps, their steps echoing across the square and hushing the crowd as they all turned in disbelief. Between them they dragged a young woman, her face beaten and bloody beyond recognition. She'd been stripped naked, her thin body covered with burns and cuts. When the men dropped her she fell on the wooden floor of the gallows heavily, unable to stand.

Hermione thought she might scream at the sight, feeling a sickness in her gut, her heart breaking with her own hurt and Mina's. It was Sonyea, of that Mina was certain, her hand moving to cover her mouth as if blocking a scream, but she couldn't speak, she couldn't move. Instead, she stood dumbly, as her friend, slowly and shakily, tried to lift her body from off the podium, her arms wobbling with the effort.

A man with a scar across his face, heavily armoured, and looking rather smug, made his way up the podium, standing next to Sonyea as he addressed the crowd. 'There is a plague upon our land, a plague of evil, that could have only come from the devil himself.' There was a murmur of fear among the crowd, whispers of terror passed from one to another, and still, Mina could not move. The man cleared his throat and continued to speak.

'This witch,' he gestured half-heartedly to the woman at his feet, 'will be the first of many to die. We will purge our land, we will take back what is ours, and remove the devil's power.' People seemed to cheer in appreciation at the prospect of death, groups huddling closer together, craning their necks to get a better look.

With a nod, the two soldiers marched forward, grasping Sonyea under the arms and hoisting her up. The spell that had held Mina in place, was suddenly broken and she found herself able to move, pushing forward through the crowd, Sonyea's name bubbling in the back of her throat like a cry, sounding like a whimper amongst the hush of anticipation that had settled.

She'd almost made it, her hand grasped around her wand, her face set and determined, when someone grabbed her, strong arms pulling her back. She fought, trying desperately to pull her wand out her pocket.

'Let go of me,' she sobbed in frustration, pulling away. The person increased their grip, yanking her back through the crowd, then wrapping their arms around her.

'Mina.' Mina stilled, recognising his voice instantly. She turned to look at him, his clear blue eyes looking into hers with such sadness and guilt, that her own tears welled in her eyes. She heard the lever being pulled, the trapdoor opening and letting in all the noise of the world. The sound of the crowd cheering, her friends chokes as she stopped being able to breathe. Grief clawed its way up from inside her and tore out her mouth in a silent scream of agony. With closed fists, she beat Edwards' chest, and he held her. Tugging her body closer to his as he whispered words into her hair, that she didn't bother to listen to. Then she was gripping his shirt, and crying and shaking, and remembering everything good and wonderful about Sonyea. Everything the woman had given up, had said, had done, had risked for her.

It took Hermione a moment to realise she was back in the room with the Sensieve, as the tears kept falling from her eyes, and the hollowness of loss had opened up inside of her, the space vast. Draco's shirt was gripped in her fingers, wet from the rain falling from the ceiling, and wet from her tears. His arms that had been wrapped around her moved.

'Er, Granger.' Draco said, she could hear awkwardness in his voice and wanted to scream. She could hear his heart thudding in his chest, could hear the quick short, sharp intakes of breath, and wondered if holding her disgusted him that much.

'Can you just… just not be a dick for one second.' she sniffed, gripping his shirt tighter, and burying her forehead into his chest to hide her tears. He didn't move for some time, and Hermione had resigned herself to getting absolutely no sympathy from him. But then he took a step forward, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her closer.

Hermione's shoulders shook as she cried, grateful that Draco said nothing as he held her, only rested his chin on the top of her head.

'What if...what if Harry..' she sobbed, she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, but Sonyea dying made everything seem so real. Draco didn't say a word, instead, he pulled back looking down at her.

His hair dark with the rain plastered across his forehead and Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she saw sympathy, shimmering in the grey depths of his eyes. Cautiously, as if uncertain of her actions, he lifted his hand, dragging the pad of his thumb against her cheek, the connection sending tiny little sparks of magic across her skin. She was acutely aware of his other hand, still holding the small of her back, fingers splayed, the warmth of it seeping through her wet shirt.

Hermione wondered if this was what his kindness looked like, wondered if beneath all his malice he was a good person. A decent person.

'Potty isn't in the habit of dying, is he?' Hermione let her lips part slightly in shock, realising that Draco Malfoy was actually trying to make her feel better. She inspected his face for any signs of cruelty and found none. He was simply staring into her eyes, a strange sort of intensity swirling in his own. Quickly she pushed herself forward, wrapping her arms around the Slytherins neck, and hugged him, closing her eyes against all the fears and worries she had for Harry, concentrating on the infuriating blonde, and how strangely nice it felt when he held her.


	32. Menar

Pain met Draco in the mist, slamming into him hard and making everything ache. His head swam with the feeling as darkness settled around him. The ground was lumpy and uncomfortable beneath him, the cold seeping into his bones making him shiver.

Edward groaned as light came streaming into the darkness. He lay in a small tent, the material shifting and moving slightly in the wind, rain soaking through and dripping onto his face. He lay still, forehead creasing as he tried to remember everything and anything that could explain where he was.

Slowly and reluctantly memories wormed their way out of the fog, flickering behind his eyes. They were a little blurred around the edges, and great gaps of blackness opened up in the middle of them, but he remembered. He swallowed past the dryness in his throat, trying desperately to speak, his voice hoarse.

'Ahhh Commander James.' The voice was high pitched, with a slight lisp, and Edward found himself wincing, as the sound run in his already aching head.

A small reedy man came into view; bright red hair hanging in limp strands around his face, a large grin plastered across his face, showing off his crooked teeth. His eyes were too big and his nose too small, and in his hands, he held a filthy rag covered with blood. He passed it from one hand to the other in what seemed like a nervous gesture, kneeling down by Edwards side.

'You're alive after all.' He grinned again, and Edward noticed the fresh stains of blood splattered across his yellowing shirt.

'Am I not supposed to be?' Edward asked, trying to sit up.

The man placed a hand on his chest, showing surprising strength as he pushed Edward back.

'I wouldn't move yet Commander, it's really going to hurt.' The man seemed to take great delight in this fact, his pale blue eyes seeming to shimmer with happiness. 'Quite the mystery you were.' He stated, wiping his hands on his rag absentmindedly as he stood. 'I thought they were having me on when they brought you in, not a wound in sight. Told them they could take your drunken arse to sleep with the pigs. But they assured me that you,' the man turned, glancing down at Edward in an accusing way, 'were dying. And yet, here you are.' He shook his head, grabbing a wooden cup, and dipping it into a large wooden barrel that sat in the corner of the tent.

Edward turned to look around the rest of the test, recoiling as he noticed the body lay on a mat adjacent to his. His head was back, eyes wide and more white than pupil, his mouth open as if in shock. Flies buzzed happily around a large open wound in his side, where his hand was still frozen, trying to hold everything in. Draco felt sick, trying to pull away from the memory, to take control and close his eyes, so he didn't have to look anymore. But Edward refused to turn away as if the sight would change to something better.

'That one was a screamer.' The man pointed out, making his way back towards Edward, the small wooden cup in his hands. 'Wouldn't even shut up long enough for me to tell him he was going to die. Here.' He knelt down and held the water out to Edward, which he took gratefully. It tasted like sickness, filth and rusty nails, but Edward thought it was the most glorious thing he'd ever tasted.

'Where am I?' Edward gasped, finishing the water and taking a huge gulp of oxygen, handing the cup back to the redhead.

'The King's encampment.' The voice came from behind him, and Edward turned. 'That's what the rich dicks are calling it. It's all just shit and mud if you ask me.' Just behind the dead man lay another, his face grey, sweat gleaming across his brow and upper lip, beading in tiny drops. His cracked lips shook as if he were trying to say more, but he didn't.

The red-haired man rose, making his way over to the man quickly. With a flourish, he pulled back the blanket that lay over him, and the smell of infection smacked Edward in the face. Half of the man's leg had gone, and the bandages were filthy, soaked in a mix of pus and blood. With a shake of his head, the red-haired man tutted and replaced the blanket.

'Not long now, Oren.' He muttered, tapping the dying man's shoulder.

'I know it, Vard, stop fussing.' He replied gruffly.

Oren's face had the look of a thousand battles, the weight of them sinking into the lines on his face. He was dying, of that Edward was sure. He'd seen the deaths of so many, known how it looked, how it smelt, and he recognised it now, hovering above Oren's bed. There were many different ways that men had reacted to the darkness of the unknown; some had stared into it with wide eyes, as if they had never seen anything so black, others would beg and plead for life, for home, for all those that had been left behind. It was rare though to find those that met death as if standing on another battlefield and facing yet another enemy. He knew only real soldiers, real warriors met death that way. Edward saw it in Oren and felt a deep respect for the man.

'As Oren says, this is the King's Encampment, just outside Menar.' Edward jumped at the name, recognising the small village where he had found Mina in the market.

'Menar? Why?' He asked, forcing himself to rise, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his back. Vard shook his head.

'Lord Morax has been purging the village.' Edward sighed, pausing to allow the pain to ebb away before he tried moving again. He wasn't surprised that Tharin had been murdering more people, he only felt guilty that he wasn't able to do anything about it.

'They start officially at dawn.' Vard shook his head as if he found the idea incredibly detestable. 'The witch that cursed you is to die today apparently, to set an example.' Edward froze his head snapping up.

'What?'

'The witch that cursed you, heard some of the men say that she is to hang at dawn, signalling the start of Lord Morax's stand against the darkness.' Vard chuckled slightly to himself.

With great effort Edward heaved himself onto his feet, glancing around for his belongings. 'Where are my things?' He ground out, limping towards Vard, his face set in determination, trying to ignore the pain lancing across his back.

'I don't think it's wise to be moving around as you are, Commander, there is no telling what damage the witch has done.' Edward ignored him, pushing past the small man's shoulder, and examining the table he'd been stood near. What looked like instruments of torture were strewn across the wood, soaked with blood, long forgotten rags lying pitifully between them like fallen soldiers. Beneath the table were a pile of belongings; swords, shields, armour and various other instruments of war all piled haphazardly. Edward dug through them, smiling slightly when he found his daggers. They were simple, the hilt simply a leather strap wrapped around wood, and the daggers themselves were iron-tipped with silver. But they were all he had left of his father, so he held onto them as if they were priceless.

Quickly he rose, tying the belt around his waist and heading for the front of the tent, only glancing back to check on Oren's progress. The man was still, his eyes staring past the things of the world into some distant realm, that Edward himself has seen twice, but no breath passed his lips. He had fought his final battle and death had won. Shaking his head, Edward stepped out of the tent, enjoying the coolness of the rain against his cheeks.

He quickly weaved his way through the encampment tents, ignoring the drunk soldiers as they stumbled into the mud, heaved up by the women they'd managed to find. Prostitutes waited in groups, their bony hands grasping at his shirt as he limped past. He ignored them as they gave him sultry smiles, and told him he could put his sword anywhere.

The sky lightened slightly as he made his way out of the encampment, and towards the village. Though the rain fell, the splashes and patter of raindrops reaching his ears, there was eerie sort of hush, that made him feel uneasy. No one wandered the winding streets between the small huts, he could hear no other voices, no other footsteps.

He rounded the corner of a hut, a pig snuffling in the earth at its feet, and paused. The whole of the village's occupants were stood around the village square, marked by a small well where all villagers got their water. He remembered when the well had been a blessing, people had danced around the bricks and sang songs. Now they stood, hunched and motionless, leaning their heads closer to one another as they whispered secrets and suspicions.

Edward gulped as he saw the gallows. He knew how easily they were put together, and taken apart. They would kill Mina's friend and dismantle it as if nothing had ever happened. He gripped the hilt of his knives as he strode forward, his boots sinking into the mud, and splashing water up the back of his legs.

Her body was starkly pale against the grey morning, every inch of it covered it wounds in various stages of healing. Her face was barely recognisable, swollen and bruised from repeated beatings. Anger rose as bile in his throat. He had killed men in various horrific ways, watched the blood drain them pale. But the cruelty was abhorrent, and it filled him with more loathing than he'd ever thought possible. Any attempt to save her would end in his death, of that he was certain, but he figured there were worse ways to go. With a sigh, he straightened his shoulders, moving to unsheath his knives as Aygust began making his speech, his voice carrying across the crowd and pushing Edward forward.

He paused in his process when he saw her. She was frozen in place among the spectators, her eyes wide in terror, hair wet and plastered across her face. His heart ached as his eyes took her in, it had been so long since he had seen her, and she was still as beautiful and breathtaking as the first time he laid eyes on her.

He panicked slightly as Mina's face contorted into a look of pure determination, and she began to push her way through the spectators. He cast a glance between the woman on the podium and Mina, his heart racing in his chest, as he felt the familiar pump of adrenaline through his veins. He had to choose, between the woman who had saved his life, and the woman that he loved. With a saddened heart, he knew he'd already made his choice.

He grabbed hold of her, yanking her away from the podium with all his strength, ignoring the pain and her protests, thinking only of getting her to safety. His hands shook with how good it felt to have her in his arms again, and with how much he wished their circumstances were different.

'Let go of me.' People were beginning to notice, so he took a deep breath and pulled her back some more, lifting her feet off of the ground and backing away from the curious faces. They stood right at the back, a safe distance from the podium, Mina's friend just a bruised shimmering outline in the haze of raindrops. The rope was around her neck, and she stood proud and naked, her chin turned up in defiance.

'Mina.' he said, breath choking in the back of his throat when she looked up at him, tears shimmering, unshed in her eyes. He didn't want her to see, couldn't let her live with that. So he held her gaze as the lever was pulled and the trapdoor opened. Let her beat his chest and cry as her friend died and she could do nothing about it. The witch that had saved him flickered through his mind, and he felt the familiar stab of guilt in his chest. He knew he couldn't have saved both of them, it would have been impossible, but a small part of him felt like he should of. Tears fill his eyes as he buried his head in Mina's hair and held onto her, promising himself that he would never let her go.

Draco pulled back slightly as he realised his head was buried in Hermione's bushy hair, her forehead pressed against his chest. He gulped his heart racing at how close they were, and the feel of the Sensieve's magic dancing across his skin. She gripped his shirt in her fist and Draco wondered if she could hear his elevated heartbeat, his breath stuttering in his lungs.

'Er, Granger?' He muttered, swallowing his nerves and trying to pull away, removing his hands from around her waist.

'Can you just...just not be a dick for a second?' Hermione muttered, gripping his shirt tighter and burying her forehead in his chest. The sheer leg shaking, the gut-knotting feeling of it made him blink stupidly for a couple of seconds. They'd been fighting, she'd slapped him, he'd been a tosser, she'd been a know-it-all, and now she was holding onto him. He grit his teeth and swallowed heavily, stepping into her space, and wrapping his arms around her, holding her close as she shook with the hurt. Hesitantly he rested his chin on the top her head, breathing in the heady scent of strawberry.

'What if...what if Harry..' Hermione was sobbing again, and Draco grit his teeth, as once again the boy wonder managed to weasel his scarred forehead into all their interactions. He pulled away, needing to create some distance, to remind himself that she had slapped him only minutes before.

But he stopped because she was looking up at him with such sadness, with such worry, and his heart ached. He recognised the feeling as one he had felt before when he was experiencing Edwards memory. All he'd wanted was to make things better, make Mina happy, and now Draco realised, that was exactly what he wanted for Hermione. Even if it meant saying something good about Potty, even if it meant hoping that the stupid Got-to-be-a-hero made it through the third task unscathed.

A new tear fell from her eyes, sliding slowly down her cheek. With stuttering uncertainty he lifted his hand, his thumb brushing across her cheek to wipe it away. He was shocked by the softness of her skin, by her acceptance of the gesture.

'Potty isn't in the habit of dying, is he?' Her mouth opened slightly, her full lips red and glistening, brown eyes shimmering with questions and sadness. Then she was hugging him, throwing her arms around him like he had seen her do so many times with Potty and Weasel.

He tried to calm his heart and breathing, both working overtime as he stared in shock at the door. Just before she'd hugged him, before she'd thrown herself into his arms, he'd been about to do something stupid, something that would have destroyed the balance between them, beyond repair. He Draco Malfoy had been about to kiss Hermione Granger.


	33. The Third Task

'Who died and made you so happy?' Blaise asked, leaning his forearms against the railings of the stands, ignoring Pansy, who was waving a Potter Stinks flag, rather vigorously.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' Draco commented innocently. All of the school's inhabitants had made their way outside to witness the third and final task, the noise of various cheers crashing together in the summer air. Draco had to admit to himself that the maze did look rather impressive, stretching into the distance in the most foreboding way, a thick haze of mist curling above it.

Draco scanned the crowd and smiled when he spotted a familiar bush of brown hair. Even with the mass of students and teachers, the dizzying array of colours, and the cacophony of noise, he could still find her, as if they were the only two people stood beneath the stars. He admired the back of her head, her hair back to its usual frizz, no longer plastered against her face with the magical rain that had fallen from the ceiling of the Sensieve's room.

As if sensing his gaze, Hermione turned and looked at him. Draco's heart raced as the ends of her lips turned upwards in the offering of a small smile, which he returned, his cheeks burning. Quickly she turned back to Weasel and Weaselette, nodding her head as they spoke to her, their own faces alive with excitement.

'See, there you go again.' Blaise turned, gesturing to the grin that Draco immediately tried to suppress.

'Can't I be happy?" Draco asked pointedly.

'Well...yeah, I guess...it's just.' Blaise stuttered, searching the ground for the remnants of his sentence.

'What he means to say is, no one's got hurt yet.' Pansy cut in, leaning forward, craning her neck to see around Blaise, her Potter stinks flag held loosely in her fingers.

'I can be happy about other things.' Draco bit out defensively, taking great interest in something, anything, that was happening the other side of the stands.

'Such as?' Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking rather evilly.

'Other things.' Draco tried his best not to smile again as he thought of Hermione. They hadn't spoken much after she'd cried. She'd simply pulled away, her face red and splotchy, sniffing in the most adorable way, as she wiped the tears from her face, with the sleeve of her shirt.

He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought before it took root. He thought it was beyond amazing, beyond magical, that Hermione was so friendly with him when that very morning she had been slapping him around the face telling him what a terrible person he was. To hope that she would feel the same way that he did, was too much for even him to ask for.

'This is about that gir….'

'Bodnis Fudge.' Theo called, pushing between Blaise and Draco, waving a silver box under their noses, and cutting in on whatever can of worms Pansy had been about to unleash.

'Is that the stuff your Aunt sends you?" Blaise asked, wrinkling his nose at the rather grey looking lump Theo held in his fingers.

'Yup.' Theo said, popping the P and tossing the lump into his mouth. Blaise turned slightly green as he watched his friend chew the fudge happily.

'I don't know how you eat that.' Draco sniffed, 'It looks like the crap you scrape up from the bottom of a stagnant pond.'

'Tastes like it too,' Blaise added, and Draco nodded in agreement.

'I'll have some.' Pansy bustled past Blaise and reached into the Silver box, pulling out a small grey lump and sniffing it suspiciously.

'I wouldn't Pans, not if you value your senses. One cube of that will kill all of them. Melt the eyes right out of your head.'

'And rip the lining from your stomach, I was in bed for two weeks afterwards.'

'That's because you Malfoy's are such delicate creatures.' Theo's smirk died on his face when Draco gave him a look that was warning enough. Theo chose to keep his opinions to himself and took another piece of fudge, nibbling on it nervously.

'You guys are so dramatic, how bad could it be?' Pansy shrugged.

'Bad.' Both Blaise's eyebrows rose with the severity of the fudge's awfulness.

'Don't say we didn't warn you.' Draco sighed, turning back to the crowd, his eyes immediately being pulled to where Hermione sat, nodding her head vigorously to whatever the Weaselette was saying. He could tell she was worried, could see it sitting on her shoulders. He wondered if Weasel could tell if Potty knew how much Hermione worried about him. He grit his teeth as he felt the familiar burn of jealousy.

Sounds of Pansy's disgust dragged him out of his thoughts, and he smirked. 'Told you.' He tossed the words over his shoulder, his eyes not leaving the back of Hermione's head.

'Sweet magical mother of Merlin, what is in that?' Pansy squealed, spitting the offending fudge out at her feet'

'Death, destruction, all the woe of the world in fudge form. It's like eating a bitesize apocalypse.' Draco muttered, turning away from the crowd. Hermione had been snuggled up rather close to Weasel, and the sight had been more than annoying.

'It tastes like bat piss.' Pansy gagged.

'Ooo that's a new one.' Blaise grinned down at the girl rubbing her back consolingly.

'Got experience with bat piss?' Theo asked, raising an eyebrow as he chewed another piece of fudge.

'You know what I me...how can you actually eat that?' She screeched, glancing up and watching in horror as the boy appeared to be eating the fudge with no problem, a small contented smile playing on his lips.

'I don't know what's wrong with you guys, Vinny and Greg can't get enough of the stuff.'

'They will eat anything, literally anything.' Blaise nodded at Pansy's words.

'I once caught them nibbling on bat wings during potions.'

'Well, they are a delicacy in some countries.' Theo shrugged.

'Delicacy is just a nice way of saying 'tastes like crap.' Draco muttered, having sampled quite a few foods that his mother had sworn blind were a delicacy.

'Where does your aunt get it from?' Theo looked at Pansy for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to answer the question, he sighed deeply, shaking the box gently and examining its contents before he continued.

'Well where she lives, the gnomes leave it outside homes as a sort of offering.'

'Gnomes are gits, the only thing they'd leave is…' Horror dawned on Pansy's face as she realised the sheer magnitude of her mistake.

'We did warn you.' Blaise muttered sympathetically, shivering in disgust as remembered his own traumatic experience. Draco had held him back to stop him from beating Theo into a pulp that resembled his beloved fudge.

'Bon appeturd.' Draco said with a smirk.

'Gnome shit? Are you kidding me.' Pansy screeched. Blaise winced, Pansy hardly ever swore, always snootily pointing out that pureblood breeding called for a more refined manner of speech. When she did swear, however, it was almost a given that Slytherin wrath would follow. The small brown haired witched rounded on Theo, who was backing away slowly, his one hand raised in surrender, the other still holding the offending item of food.

'There's no evidence to suggest that, my aunt happens to think they're offerings of peace.' Theo commented, scowling as both Blaise and Draco suppressed laughter.

'Is this the aunt that thinks she can talk to rocks?" Pansy asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Theo examined the contents of his silver box innocently.

'It might be.' He muttered.

'Do...do they sell it where your aunt is from?' Pansy asked, clutching at whatever pitiful straws she could.

'Well….no, not really. My aunt sort of hopes it will, you know, catch on.' Theo shrugged.

Pansy stared off into the distance for some time, her eyes wide, her bottom lip wobbling. Both Blaise and Draco examining their friends face. Slowly Draco waved his hand in front of Pany's face and shrugged when the girl didn't react.

'I think you broke her.' Blaise muttered, turning to Theo.

'I ate gnome faeces.' Pansy whispered.

'Acceptance is the key to healing.' Draco pointed out, smirking slightly as he turned away.

Cheers picked up as the 'champions' exited the tent, glancing up at their spectators with wonder. Draco sneered when he spotted the messy head of hair attached to Scarface. He glanced down at Hermione and noticed that she was leaning forward in her seat, her shoulders hunched. He rubbed his face as his thoughts strayed towards the territory of him fighting through the crowd to comfort her.

'Okay, so bets on who's going to win?' Blaise said excitedly, stepping past a rather shell-shocked looking Pansy.

'Diggory, it's a given.' Theo nodded, stepping next to his friend, and glancing down at the champions. 'Although it would have been nice to see Fleur dela-yum win, we could have discussed her victory over firewhiskey and my incredible…'

'You're disgusting.' Pansy cut in, sharply.

'You didn't let me finish, I was going to say my incredible sense of humour.' Theo said defensively, placing his hand over his heart.

'Of course, you were.' Pansy spat, standing beside Draco, waving her Potter stinks flag, half-heartedly.

'You could always offer a shoulder to cry on.' Blaise pointed out, and Theo nodded at his suggestion, head tipping from side to side as he considered it.

'You do realise she is a first class bitch.' Draco looked down at Pansy as she said this, a scowl marring her usually quite pretty features.

''Oh but a very beautiful first class bitch.' Theo crooned. Draco rolled his eyes, watching with mild interest as both Diggory and Potter disappeared into the depths of the maze, the green hedges closing ranks behind them. Hermione was stood, her hands pressed against her chest, and eyes trained on the space where they had once stood, her gaze unblinking.

Krum followed soon after, his strides long and sure. Pansy swooned slightly next to him, and Draco glanced down at her amused.

'Reckon he's got a chance of winning Pans?' he asked, nudging her in a suggestive way. Pansy smirked, looking up at him.

'Doesn't matter, he'll look fantastic either way.' Draco scoffed, shaking his head.

'You're as bad as Knott.' Pansy looked none too impressed by this statement, her eyes burning into his.

'Do not lump me in with that turd eating jerk.' Draco chuckled, watching the maze appear to swallow the Delacour girl like it had all the others.

Draco stayed quiet for some time, alternating between watching Hermione and listening as his friends argued. Pansy was assuring Theo that she had not forgotten what he'd tried to feed her, and retribution would happen when he least expected it. During that little argument, the first flare rose in the sky. The crowd oohed and ahhhed, gasps of apprehension rippling from one person to the next.

'What do you suppose that's about?' Blaise asked, staring up at the red flare still shimmering against the inky black sky.

'Bet its one of the champions.' Pansy stated matter-of-factly. Draco stared up at the flare himself, wondering who had sent it shattering into the sky. He knew that Hermione would be panicking, wondering if Harry was the reason for its appearance, wondering if her friend would make it out alive.

When the second flare went into the sky, Draco didn't even look up, instead turned to Blaise and grinned. 'One galleon says it's Krum.' The dark haired boy grinned.

'I'll take those odds.' Blaise said, taking Draco's hands and shaking it.

'I cannot believe your betting against Krum.' Pansy said in shock, looking between the two of them disapprovingly.

'Not all of us get all hot and sweaty under our robes for the seeker.' Theo pointed out, ignoring Pansy's anger and looking at Draco. 'Two Galleons says it's Potter.'

'You're on.' Blaise and Draco spoke together, watching the maze intently waiting for the champion to emerge. Draco cheered when the Bulgarian seeker was carried out. With a smirk, he collected his hard-earned galleons and slipped them into his pocket.

'Just Potty and Diggory now.' Theo stated, chewing on some more fudge.

'Merlin, are you still eating that?' Pansy was leaning forward, watching Theo place another piece in his mouth in disbelief.

'Why wouldn't I? It's good stuff.' he mumbled past the food.

'Urgh, you are just….there are no words Knott, no words.' Draco shook his head in exasperation, slowly turning back to Hermione, her presence a gravity, that dragged his gaze toward it constantly.

She was still looking at the maze, her hands clasped in front of her, Weasel was talking animatedly by his side, but she didn't seem to hear him, or even realise that he was there. Draco looked down at his own hands, trying to squash the jealousy that always rose when he saw them together. He was inspecting the nail of his thumb when he felt her gaze, the Sensieve's magic shifting around him, confirming what he already knew.

Hesitantly he glanced up, his heart racing as her brown eyes were staring straight into his. He didn't know what she was trying to communicate across the space, but he smiled at her anyway, because he hoped it would make her feel better.

Suddenly gasps erupted throughout the stadium, followed by enthusiastic cheers as the champions returned. Hermione broke his gaze and turned back towards the maze. When Draco glanced down himself, he knew something was wrong. Potty was gripping the still body of Diggory, trying to fend off people as they moved toward the pair.

'Merlin.' Pansy muttered, covering her mouth as she watched teachers crowd around the two champions.

'What happened?' Theo's box of fudge had fallen out of his hands and skittered between the stands beneath them. The answer came from someone on the lower stands, shouted in shock, and spreading throughout the students like wildfire. Cedric Diggory was dead.


	34. Summer Visit

The ticking of the clock was loud in the silence of the room, Hermione glanced at it briefly, before looking away, sighing heavily when she realised that he was late. Her eyes longingly strayed to the window, bright sunshine glimmering through the tree that stood outside her house, leaves gold with it. Hermione smiled slightly at the sight, but it soon fell from her face as she remembered.

Cedric Diggory was dead.

It was a fact she found repeating over and over, just in case she forgot. It could have been Harry, was usually the thought that followed close behind; along with the fear, the relief and the ever-present guilt.

Harry himself had been distant, his eyes haunted by the ghosts of all that had happened. He'd told them somewhat brokenly about he-who-must-not-be-named, that he was back, about the death eaters and the graveyard. There was more to the story, Hermione could sense it, could see it in the distance he strived to put between them. She wanted to ask so many questions, her throat burned with them, as they piled up and nearly burst out of her. She always stopped herself though, all anyone seemed to do was take from Harry, and she wanted to be different, at least for his sanity.

There was another more selfish reason that drove her silence; it was tall, blonde and took up most of her thoughts pretty much all of the time, and his father had been in the graveyard where Cedric had died, and he-who-must-not-be-named had returned.

Hermione stood from the sofa, moving to stand beside the window, sitting on the ledge slightly, crossing her chest. She watched as people walked past, their mouths open wide with silent laughter. Summer for them was a little world of paradise, but for her, it felt like a reminder that everything wasn't okay, no matter how badly the world wanted it to look that way.

She'd wanted to ask Malfoy about his father's involvement, to corner him and demand the truth. But when he'd took her to the side on the train home, he'd looked so uncertain, so awkward. If she was honest, she'd expected some anger. In the weeks that followed Cedric's death, Hermione had remained close to Harry's side, fending off malicious accusations, and obviously the Skeeter woman. Hermione allowed herself a small smirk as he thought of the colourful reporter, confined to a bug jar.

But Draco hadn't been angry, hadn't been cruel. He'd simply pressed a small rolled up scroll into her palm, his hand shaking with the nerves, and hesitantly told her to keep in touch over the holidays. Hermione recognised the use of a Protean Charm, she'd read about it herself several times, but never actually seen it used before. Draco had babbled on about it being a new spell he'd worked on using his ancestor's wand, all the while scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks flaming. Hermione was certain she'd been seeing things, because no more than a few seconds later, he'd found his composure, making dry comments about it all being too much for her to comprehend, when she'd simply blinked up at him dumbly.

Hermione pulled the small scroll from the pocket of her shorts, and inspected it, passing it between her fingers. There'd been some uncertainty when he'd handed it to her, it came loud and clear as Ron's voice in her head, ' _Fraternising with the enemy.'_ Hermione shook her head as she heard it again. She tried desperately to believe that it was some nefarious plot to get to Harry, but she always found herself smiling slightly at the thought that Draco Malfoy would want to stay in touch with her. Not that she'd ever expected him to use it, not at all, at least not for anything but berating her. Now though, only days into the holiday, she was sat in her front room, waiting for his arrival.

They'd talked, or wrote, for hours, batting ideas back and forth; about Edward, about Mina, and where all the history of the wizarding world had just miraculously vanished to. Hermione was actually grateful that he'd mentioned it, with all that had happened, the Sensieve and its mysteries had just faded into the background.

Hermione heard the telltale whoosh of Floo powder, and turned quickly, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. Draco stumbled out of the fireplace, his hair mussed, and his rather expensive looking jacket covered with soot. Hermione smirked slightly, as he waved his hand in front of the air, coughing and spluttering.

"You're late," she said, biting back the laughter as he noticed the state of his jacket, and tried to wipe it off, only succeeding in spreading the dirt around.

Draco looked up at her and scowled, a great black streak across his cheek. "Do you know how hard it is to get fireplaces hooked up to the Floo Network, luckily my family has clout?" He stated, growling as he scrubbed harder at his jacket, concentrating on trying to remove the dirt, so he didn't have to think about how good Hermione looked in shorts. 'Do you ever clean that?' He pointed at Hermione's fireplace incredulously. Hermione shrugged, smirking slightly. Butterflies pummeled the inside of her stomach, as she realised that Draco had been there only a few seconds, and she was already feeling better. She knew that wasn't supposed to happen, not with Draco Malfoy.

"We don't usually expect guests." Draco huffed, pulling off his jacket, and assessing the damage.

"You do realise how expensive this is, don't you?" Draco said, holding it up in front of Hermione, widening his eyes dramatically.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me." Hermione faked suppressing a yawn and held back a chuckle when Draco's nostrils flared.

"Expensive, very expensive. Well beyond your means expensive." Hermione rolled her eyes, gesturing to Malfoy that he should hand her the jacket.

"I'll put it in the washing machine, it will be fine." She said, slowly as if talking to an infant.

"The what?"Draco pulled the jacket closer to his chest, eyeing Hermione suspiciously.

"The wash...oh look never mind, just give it here and I'll get it clean for you. I promise." Slowly, Draco handed over the item of clothing, and Hermione strode into the kitchen, a worried blonde close on her tail. Quickly she threw it into the machine, closing the door, and twiddling the knobs to the same settings she used for her robes. She tipped some powder into the tray and shut it, stepping back with a sigh, and turning to the Slytherin, who looked horrified.

"What...what have you done? What is that thing?" He said pointing at the metal object that was growling and rattling away happily.

"That is a washing machine, seriously, have you never seen one be…" Hermione paused as she realised who she was talking to. This was Draco Malfoy, muggle hater extraordinaire, of course, he'd never seen one. Hermione groaned slightly as she realised the day was going to be slightly more stressful than she'd thought.

"Of course you wouldn't…" Hermione let her head fall into her hands, taking a deep breath before looking up. "Okay, we need a plan," Hermione stated, beginning to pace the kitchen. Draco glanced up from the swirling vortex his jacket was sloshing around in, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"A plan? We're going to a library Granger, not cracking into Gringotts." He snorted.

"A muggle library, it may as well be Gringotts, trust me." Hermione pointed out, retrieving a pad and pen from the counter, and holding it poised.

"Is that some sort of featherless quill, I haven't heard of?" Draco asked, stepping closer to peer at the biro, Hermione held in her hand.

"No this is a pen, like a quill but without the ink pot," Hermione stated, scribbling down an idea quickly, before tapping the end of it against her chin. She sighed in exasperation when Draco reached and took the pen off her, examining it in great detail.

"So where is the ink?" He asked, closing one eye and looking down the end of the nib, in a desperate attempt to locate it.

"Inside it," Hermione said pointedly, snatching it back from him, and writing another thought down.

"Inside," Draco mumbled to himself, wandering away from Hermione to inspect the rest of the room. His eyes caught sight of what looked like a black jug, tethered to the wall by a thick black lead. He looked at Hermione, contemplating on asking what in Merlin's name it was, but the Gryffindors head was buried in her work, mumbling under her breath. Slowly he approached it, noticing that a small lever protruded from the base of the handle. Hesitantly he reached out and pressed his finger against it, jumping back when the lever fell, and the whole base of the black jug glowed blue.

"I didn't do anything." He stated quickly, holding up his hands. The jug began to hiss, and growl. "I swear, I didn't do anything." He stated again, turning to Hermione, only to find that she was shaking with laughter. Draco's arms fell to his sides, as he sneered at her. "I don't see what's so amusing, Granger."

"I know," Hermione gasped, struggling for breath, "That's what's so funny." Draco shifted uncomfortably, while Hermione's laughter was by far the best sound he'd ever heard, he wasn't comfortable with it being directed at him.

"Have you worked out a plan yet?" He asked snappily, crossing his arms and refusing to meet the witch's gaze.

Hermione regained her composure but was still smirking slightly when she lifted the pad off the kitchen table top and cleared her throat. "Okay, first things first, the suit needs to go." She pointed at Draco's attire of white shirt, black trousers and black tie. Draco smirked.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I have to be taken on at least one date before I'm getting my kit off." Hermione blushed profusely, which only made him smirk more.

"You...you know that's not what I mean, Malfoy. Honestly, why on earth you wore a suit is beyond me." Hermione looked down at her pad, scribbling absolutely nonsense down, so she didn't have to acknowledge the blonde and his infuriating smirk.

"We Malfoy's like to look our best.' Draco shrugged, fiddling with his tie. Hermione peeked up at him, she had to admit he did look good in it.

'Someone your age though, wearing that, in the holidays, to a library. You'll stick out like a sore thumb.' Hermione shook her head. "I'll have to find you some clothes, maybe the charity shop.'

"I hope you're not suggesting what I think you are."

"What's that?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms, and raising her eyebrow.

"That I wear muggle clothes."

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting."

"Nope."

"But.."

"No."

"You haven't even..."

"No."

"They're exactly…"

"No, no, no, no, no. By all the magical and mystical ways of Merlin, Granger, no!'

'Fine!' Hermione sighed, exasperated. "You can at least get rid of the tie."

"It completes the outfit."

"We're going to a library,' Hermione said, emphasising the word library, pointedly, "a library."

"Well done, Granger, and the suit is staying." Hermione huffed, resigning herself to letting him keep the suit. It wasn't that much of a problem, but she knew Draco would stand out. Hers was a small town, and Draco, with his striking features, and expensively tailored suit, would be like a beacon. Hermione noticed, with relief, that he was at least removing his tie, stuffing it unceremoniously into his pocket, all the while muttering under his breath.

"Right, next, you can't overreact if anything weird happens.' Draco's eyebrows rose as she said this.

'What sort of weird things should I be expecting, Granger?' He asked rather amused, certain the witch was overreacting again. However, his smile died, when he saw Hermione pointing rather smugly to the back jug tied to the wall. Steam was rising softly from it, but the blue light had gone out.

"Fine." He sighed, begrudgingly, digging his hands into his pockets. Hermione nodded before turning back to her list. With a flourish, she tore the page from the pad and handed it to Draco.

"What's this?" He said, taking the page gingerly, examining it.

"Prohibited words." Draco's eyes bugged out of his head.

"You cannot be serious, I'm not allowed to speak? What kind of library is this?"

"A normal one, just don't say the words on that list." Hermione tapped the paper with her finger.

"Merlin? Why in Merlin's name, can't I say Merlin?"

"Because Merlin isn't that big of a deal…"

"Not that big of a deal? Not that big of a deal? Are you crazy?"

"No, but I think you might be.' Hermione stated, interrupting whatever tirade he'd been about to lose himself on. "Look, you're just going to have to accept that muggles do things differently, and if you want to blend in, you're going to have to listen to me.' Draco eyed her for a moment, before slightly nodding his head in consent.

"Fine."

"Oh and don't pay for anything, let me," Hermione called over her shoulder, walking into the lounge to grab her bag. Draco followed close behind.

"What?"

"Well, unfortunately, muggles don't take galleons, so just let me pay for stuff." Hermione wondered why, out of all of the things, this seemed to offend Draco the most.

With a sigh, Draco glanced around the room. "Anything else I should know, am I allowed to breathe?" Hermione didn't dignify his question with a response, instead of gathering her things together. Though she knew they wouldn't really need them, she packed several magical books. She knew Draco had brought his ancestors old back of magic, and that was secreted away in his school bag, which sat by the fireplace, where he had dropped it.

Hermione stared at it for a second, thinking how weird it was, that his bag was sat in her front room, that Draco Malfoy was stood in front of her, that none of their interactions had felt weird or uncomfortable. Talking to him, or rather arguing with him, felt like the most natural thing in the world. All the worries and problems that had crowded her head, seemed to have taken a break. Draco snapped her out of her thoughts.

"They aren't moving." Hermione looked up and bit back a laugh. He was stood in front of a picture of her parents on their wedding day, her father in a suit, her mother in a white dress, both wearing matching smiles. Draco tapped the glass of the frame in frustration again.

"Oh, they don't move." Hermione walked towards him, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. Draco looked at her shocked.

"Never?" Hermione shook her head, and Draco stepped back. "Creepy." Draco shivered a bit and Hermione stared up at him. She supposed it would be creepy for him, he was used to pictures having their own personality, constantly moving, a window into that moment.

"Yeah, I suppose it is." She mumbled.

Draco was shaking by the side of her, and Hermione looked up at him worried, only to find that he was laughing, his shoulders shaking, his hand covering his mouth to stop the sound. With horror, she realised what had caused such amusement. It was her first school photo; hair all bushy, teeth decidedly goofy a uniform that swamped her.

"Don't laugh." Hermione spat, blushing profusely.

"I can't help it, you're all hair and teeth." Draco spluttered. Hermione whacked him, which only served to make him laugh more.

'I was in my first year of school.' Hermione said defensively, hitting him again. Holding up his hands, the blonde struggled for breath.

"Okay, okay, I get it, Granger, no laughing at the weird unmoving pictures of you.' Hermione nodded slightly, before heaving a big sigh.

"Right, I suppose we should go." Hermione turned to leave, freezing when she noticed her parents car pulling onto the drive.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Draco said astounded, staring at the metal beast with wheels, starting when two muggles climbed out of it.

"It's my parent's," Hermione groaned, seriously reconsidering inviting the Slytherin anywhere near her home.


	35. Mr and Mrs Granger

"No, no, no, no.'" Hermione muttered, helplessly looking for a place to secret away the blonde Slytherin.

"It's fine, parents love me." Draco shrugged, sitting down on the plush sofa with a smirk.

"Not my parents," Hermione stated, grabbing his arm, and yanking him out of the chair.

"Woah, Granger." pulling his arm away from the panicking Gryffindor, he watched as Hermione's parents circled round to the back of the strange looking creature they'd arrived in, seeming to lift open its armour. He sauntered toward Hermione, who had opened up the cupboard under the stairs, and was desperately trying to clear out a boy-shaped hole to shove him into.

"So erm, not your parents? They haven't even met me." Hermione paused, turning to him indignantly.

"Really? You bullied me for years, you don't think I might mention that to my mom and dad? I tell them everything."

"Hmm, including the life-threatening crap that Potty drags you into daily," Draco asked, raising one blonde eyebrow. Hermione stuttered over an answer, before giving up and concentrating her efforts on the task in front of her.

"Ooo didn't think so. So what should I start with, the incredibly monstrous, incredibly poisonous snake, going about his snakey business, beneath the floorboards? You remember, the one that froze you…" Hermione grumbled, climbing to her feet and meeting Draco's amused gaze.

"You mention anything, and I mean anything.." Draco smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender, as Hermione waved her finger in his face.

"I know, I know, you'll poke me to death, the horror." Hermione stared at him, less than impressed. With a sigh, she stepped to the side and gestured to the small space she'd managed to create.

"Nice cupboard," Draco said dryly, inspecting the enclosed space with his nose wrinkled in semi-disgust.

'Thanks, now get in.' Hermione encouraged, glancing between him and the front door nervously.

"Malfoy's do not get in cupboards.' Draco muttered pompously, crossing his arms. A quick nudge in his back from Hermione, had his arms flailing in order to keep balance. Casting an angry glance over his shoulder, he braced himself against the door frame, fending off her attempts to push him in.

"Malfoy, I just need you to stop being a git, and get in the cupboard.' She pushed against him harder, gritting her teeth when he refused to budge.

"Alright, enough of this..' Draco let go of the frame quickly, stepping to the side. Hermione squeaked as she stumbled past Draco, and fell into the cupboard. Draco let out a small chuckle as Hermione struggled to extricate herself from the avalanche of shoes that had fallen on her head. Hermione blew a stray strand of curly hair from her face, as she pushed the various pairs of boots, slippers and trainers out of her way.

'You couldn't just do what I asked, could you?' She snapped, and Draco grinned.

'Like I said, Malfoy's do not get in cupboards, one of the few rules we purebloods live by.' Hermione rolled her eyes, huffing angrily as she struggled to her feet. Draco smirked, offering both his hands to the small witch. She eyed them suspiciously before taking them and allowing him to heave her up onto her feet. She swayed precariously and Draco took her shoulders, steadying her. The pads of his thumbs brushed along her collarbones, sending a flare of the Sensieve's magic skittering between the connection. Hermione swallowed as she looked up at him, his eyes grey staring into her own as if seeing something new, something extraordinary.

'Er, thanks.' Hermione mumbled, stepping back and heaving a sigh of relief when Draco's hands slipped off her shoulders and fell to his side.

'No problem.' He nearly cringed at how pathetically choked his voice sounded. Knowing that the small bushy-haired witch turned him into a leg shaking, juddering mess was bad enough, let alone her realising that fact. He mentally hexed himself as thoughts wandered to how nice she looked, and how easy it would be just to lean forward and...

The door opened, banging slightly against the wall, sending them both jumping back.

'We're ba…' Hermione's mom paused mid-sentence as she noticed the unfamiliar boy standing in her house.

"Mom. Dad, er hi." Hermione squeaked, pushing past Draco, and stepping out into the hallway, her hair thoroughly mussed up, her cheeks glowing red, and a rather sheepish looking Draco staring at the ground behind her, his hands dug into his pockets. Hermione's Mom and Dad both stared at them for some time, shopping gathered around their legs, mouths opening and closing as they tried to find the words.

"Are you...are you going to introduce us to your friend?" Hermione's mom gestured to Draco, who was tracing the toe of his shoes along the pattern of the carpet. Still reeling from the almost idiotic move he'd been about to pull in a closet of all places.

"Oh well...err.' Hermione turned, taking in the suit wearing Slytherin. She realised she had no idea how to introduce him. Either way, her parents would cough and splutter over the long-term enemy in their home. "This is umm…"

Striding forward, Draco quickly took Hermione's Mother's hand, and brought the knuckles gently to his lips "My name is Draco Malfoy, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.' Hermione blinked owlishly, as the simple gesture had her mother blushing.

"Malfoy ay?" Draco squirmed uncomfortably as her dad eyed him up and down, looking none too impressed.

"Er, yes sir." He offered his hand to shake, watching the man's eyebrows rise in shock. Mr Granger took his hand, and Draco did his best not to wince as the man squeezed much harder than necessary.

"And just what are your intentions with my daughter?" Mr Granger asked gruffly, hands on his hips.

"Dad!" Hermione spluttered, covering her face with her hand.

"My...intentions?" Draco stuttered, gulping nervously and wondering if his feeling for Hermione were that glaringly obvious.

"Yes, I know what your type is like."

"My type," Draco asked dumbly, wondering how years of pureblood teachings could have abandoned him so completely. His Father would have no doubt disowned him if he knew a muggle was talking to him in such a way. But it wasn't just any muggle, it was Granger's dad and thought alone nearly had him hyperventilating.

"Dad, he's just here for research, for school." Hermione breathed, wondering why in Merlin's name her parents had to come home at that particular time.

"Oh is that what they're calling it these days?" Draco shrunk slightly as Hermione's Dad looked right down his nose at him. Draco wondered if that was how others felt when he looked at them the same way.

"It's what they've always called it." Hermione snapped back, her face several shades redder than it had been a few seconds earlier.

"Well I don't like, I think…"

"So you'll be staying for tea then?" Mrs Granger asked, cutting over her husbands mumbling and grinning widely at the pair.

"Oh mom it's alright, we've got to go to the library, then Malfoy will have to get back.."

"Nonsense, you'd like some food, wouldn't you Draco?" Draco gulped, knowing that no matter what answer he gave it would, without doubt, be the wrong one.

"Err, sure, I mean, I don't see why not." He knew Hermione was staring daggers into the side of his head, but he chose to ignore it, instead focusing on the huge smile Mrs Granger was giving him, and thinking how much she looked like her daughter.

'Excellent, I'll have it ready for you, when you get back." Hermione nodded slightly, stepping past her parents, and Draco followed her hesitantly, refusing to meet the steely gaze Mr Granger was sending his way.

'Staying for tea? Are you mad?' Mr Granger turned to his wife as soon as the door shut. Mrs Granger picked up some shopping bags, smiling slightly and wandering down the hallway towards the kitchen. 'That little blonde turd has made our Hermione's life miserable, and you want to invite him round for tea?'

"Oh nonsense, Richard. Mione's much stronger than that.' Mr Granger followed his wife as she headed into the front room. She stood at the window, arms crossed, watching the progress of their daughter and boy that had bullied her for years. "Look at them." Mrs Granger said shaking her head and smiling slightly.

Richard did, gritting his teeth as Hermione turned to the blonde boy and grinned broadly, her head tipping back slightly as she laughed. He couldn't wrap his head around it, every time she had mentioned his name it had been with hatred and venom. Now though it seemed as though she had been talking about a different person entirely.

"I don't like it ." He stated moodily, hunching his shoulders, his scowl growing as his wife laughed at him. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder.

'He seems like a sweet boy,"

"Hmm, you think everyone is sweet.' Richard grumbled.

"It's a good job really, don't you think?" Richard sighed, placing his hand on his wife's and tapping it affectionately.

"I was never mean to you." He stated, not really believing it himself. In his younger years, he had shown affection in the way most other boys did, by teasing incessantly. For most of their childhood, he had been the bane of his wife's existence.

"You used to pull my hair and call me fatty, I think that counts as mean." Richard laughed slightly at his wife's pout, before turning to his daughter. The pair of them had nearly reached the end of the road where they would turn out of sight.

"Only because I wanted your attention."

"What makes you think that young man is any different?"

"Tea? Are you mad? We are going to have to sit with my parents and talk. Oh my god, kill me now." Hermione whispered harshly as soon as the door closed behind them.

"I panicked, okay. Your mom put me on the spot. Besides,' Draco shrugged slightly, feigning calm, 'how bad could it be?"

"How bad could it be? Are you serious? With my mom and my dad, it'll be like the Spanish Inquisition all over again."

"Spanish Inquisition?" Draco asked, confused.

"Lot's of questions, torture...bad it will be very bad." Draco chuckled slightly at how riled up Hermione was getting.

"It can't be any worse than eating Pansy," Draco muttered, shivering slightly as he remembered his own run-ins with the nosy Slytherin.

"Oh really, how?" Hermione asked, for the first time, wondering what being with his friends was actually like. She imagined that they were just nasty people, but then she realised she'd thought that about Draco, and that wasn't wholly true.

"Oh, she'll crack you open, and have you snotting into your robes faster than you can say Veritaserum." He felt the swell of joy in his chest when Hermione laughed, her eyes glimmering with amusement as she turned to look at him.

"Sound like fun."

"Like being bashed repeatedly over the head with a quaffle, kind of fun." Hermione stared down at her feet, her mind reeling again at the absurdity of her situation. Draco Malfoy had met her parents and actually managed to be civil. Now they were walking into her hometown, talking about normal things, as if there weren't a huge rift between them at school.

"I can't believe you kissed my mom's hand." Hermione shook her head, laughing in disbelief.

'What, it's simple etiquette. Besides, I had to do something, you were doing a spectacularly mediocre job of umm…" Draco mocked, and Hermione hit him.

"I didn't know how to introduce you," she explained, desperately trying to defend herself.

"My name would have been a start, Granger."

"Oh sush, I wasn't the one repeating questions dumbly."

"Ouch," Draco muttered, holding his chest dramatically. 'That's a low blow, Granger. I'm out of my element here."

"And yet you still manage to be just as annoying."

"Well, I'm nothing if not consistent." Hermione smiled slightly, covertly glancing up at him, chuckling as he inspected a car with obvious confusion.

"Granger, what is that?"

"That's a car," she stated as they paused next to a red mini.

"A car?" Draco enunciated the word slowly, frowning at the unfamiliar taste of it in his mouth. "What does it do?" Draco peered into the window, tapping the glass lightly.

"Er you drive them, they help get you places faster."

"Drive them…' Draco muttered, examining the silver handle on the door.

"Er I wouldn't…' Hermione winced as Draco pulled the handle, and the alarm started blaring. Draco stumbled back comically, fear etched across his features, as he jumped behind Hermione, and held her between him and the screaming metal beast. Hermione sighed.

"What did I say about overreacting?"

"Overreacting? Tell that thing, I barely touched it." Draco gestured to the car, it's lights still flashing, alarm still wailing.

"Come on,' Hermione chuckled, shaking her head, 'And don't touch anything else."


	36. Borrow Read Return

Mr E A Rowland had owned Borrow. Read. Return. for as long as Hermione could remember, his name painted in gold letters above the door. They had faded considerably since her childhood, but Hermione smiled slightly when the edges still glimmered in the sunlight.

Her fascination with books had been her dad's fault. He'd been after a particularly rare book on teeth and Mr Rowland was known, the village over, for his peculiar collection of literary works. One toe over the threshold and she had been in love; worlds, words and the smell of stories everywhere she turned. She'd borrowed five books that day (as it was all Mr Rowland would allow), and she simply hadn't stopped.

The years hadn't been kind to Mr Rowland, in the fact that he had grown old, and the rest of the village had become new. There was a public library, kitted out with computers, and a library catalogue, that told visitors exactly what they were looking for, and where to find it. But whether out of stubbornness or simply because he didn't care, Mr Rowland stayed the same, and so did his shop; stooped and wrinkling a little around the edges, but the same

Hermione had, with some shock and wonder, found some magical books. Before magic, they had been a window into a world she hoped existed, simply because, for some reason or another, she didn't fit into her own. The prospect of being a dentist didn't fill her with the excitement it did her parents, nor did any other possible career, and she'd read book after book on them. Even now when she thought about it, it was a comfort to know that the magical world had always been closely interwoven with her own, never far away.

The books never stayed in Mr Rowland's collection for long though, they were snatched up by men and women dressed rather strangely. One man had been adorned with striped pyjama trousers, a floral jacket, shirt and tie, topped off with a rather large top hat. Due to the fact that not one of the strangely dressed guests ever returned their books, Mr Rowland became suspicious, refusing to allow anyone, who he deemed to be dressed abnormally, home with his books. Many youngsters studying for exams had been unceremoniously turned away.

Hermione glanced back at Draco, giving his attire a once over. His shirt did look much whiter than the average shirt, his trousers slightly silkier than the muggle version, and his shoes. Hermione almost facepalmed at his shoes, they were without doubt dragon skin, the way they shimmered unnaturally even in shadow. She supposed he wouldn't arouse too much suspicion, but then again he had been jumping out of his skin the whole way there, threatening to curse every car that passed. Even now, turned down a quiet cobbled side street, he was shaking behind her, his face pale, his eyes darting this way and that, checking for any oncoming danger.

She knew in the dimness of Mr Rowland's Library they would be relatively free from strange glances and Draco would have a chance to calm down, as Mr Rowland's Library was so stuck in the past, it could have sold tickets as a museum. Now though, oak door before her, rusting lion door knocker staring her in the face, along with a 'Dressing gowns are not suitable attire' sign, she hesitated. Borrow. Read. Return. had been her sanctuary for many years, when she was being bullied, or felt alone, she would disappear into the shadows of the bookshelves, and be half a world away within seconds. When she used magic accidentally for the first time, Borrow. Read. Return. had been her first port of call, and the stillness of the books had calmed her. Standing at the door with her long-term enemy felt like a betrayal. Mr Rowlands Library was her secret, a secret she hadn't shared with even her closest friends.

'The door won't open itself, Granger.' Draco muttered drily, surprising her out of her own thoughts. With a sigh, she pushed down the large brass handle, leaning her shoulder into the dark wood.

Stepping inside was like stepping into a cave, the sun muscling through the open doorway and setting alight dust particles that moved lazily in the air. Every available window was covered with thick black curtains, and in spite of the heat outside, the inside of Borrow. Read. Return. was fairly cool, so much so, that goosebumps began to bubble the length of Hermione's arms.

As ever, books were piled haphazardly, the space a maze of bookshelves of all different shapes and sizes. At the other end of the room were two flights of stairs, one going up and the other going down. Hung over them on a rather crudely made cardboard sign, were the words MORE BOOKS. Mr Rowland, a small wrinkled face beneath white wisps of hair, was sat behind his counter, a fort of large old volumes piled around him, one of which was opened in front of him. He leant over it, his long hooked nose nearly touching the page, squinting at the words. Mr Rowland was, without doubt, a muggle, but Hermione had always thought there was something distinctly magical about him. Even there, in the gloom, he looked something akin to a goblin at Gringotts.

Slowly he peered up from his book, his whole body shaking with the effort.

"Ah, Miss Granger, back from school I see." His voice was shockingly deep for an old frail man, and it boomed through his library with very little effort on his part. Hermione smiled broadly, in spite of company, stepping forward.

"Yes, Sir," she answered brightly, "just here to do a bit of research." Mr Rowland nodded, before turning his gaze to Malfoy who was still glancing around the room, his mouth hanging open slightly. He had seen magical libraries that were much larger, books flying through the air to their proper places, but he was still shocked by the sheer magnitude of volumes one muggle had managed to amass.

"And who is this?" He asked, sharp eyes taking in his clothing.

"Ahh, this is Malfoy, we go to school together. He's here to help me with my research." Hermione quickly nudged Draco, shocking him out of his daze.

"Er...Draco Malfoy, sir, a pleasure to meet you." Mr Rowland sniffed, squinting at Draco's shoes.

"Dressed a bit strangely, isn't he?" Hermione winced as the statement had Draco's back straightening.

'"He's been to a funeral." She cut in before Malfoy could say anything, and no doubt get her banned from her favourite place in the whole world.

"A funeral?" Draco muttered under his breath, but Hermione ignored him, doing her best to look sad. After shooting her a look that suggested she'd grown another head, Draco followed suit, lowering his head.

'Oh, my condolences.' Mr Rowland wobbled from his chair, arms bracing against the counter in front of him. 'Who may I ask?'

'My Grandmother,' Draco said, 'Taken from us suddenly.' Hermione grit her teeth, she could hear the mockery lacing each syllable and she was certain Mr Rowland would hear it. The old man, however, seemed quite concerned.

'Oh, how terrible.'

'Yes, well he doesn't like to talk about it, do you..'

'Was Dragon Pox..' Draco stuttered to a stop as Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

'Dragon pox? Can't say as I've ever heard of that. Not catching I hope." Draco shook his head, suppressing laughter as the man nodded and continued. "Must be one of those new foreign diseases, I swear they bring a new one out every week! If it's not the birds, it's the pigs." Hermione shot Draco an angry glare.

"What?" Draco mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and grinning down at her. Hermione crossed her arms and turned to Mr Rowland, who she hoped was reaching the end of his tirade.

'Anyway, what can I help you with.' Mr Rowland lifted his head up, looking at the pair of them down the length of his long hooked nose.

'We were looking for any information on the 14th century.' Hermione stated, knowing without a doubt that whatever they were looking for was in a room upstairs. Mr Rowland made it known to anyone who would care to listen, that fiction books were the only books worth reading, as the real world was so dreary and mundane. For that very reason, anyone seeking non-fiction books were made to work for it.

'Ah well, that will be upstairs then.' He muttered, shuffling his way towards the stairs.

Progress was slow, as Mr Rowland took the stairs one painful step at a time, pausing to relay a snippet of useless information. Hermione had elbowed Draco several times when he had laughed at the man. While she knew Mr Rowlands behaviour was strange, she was always reminded that he spent much of his time alone, and the books he loved so dearly were his whole world.

Finally, they made it to the small room at the very top of the building, the dusty attic room. All non-fiction history was placed there because of all the non-fiction books Mr Rowland liked history the least. Hermione, however, had spent much of her time there, enjoying the solitude that the attic room afforded. With a small sniff and a nod, Mr Rowland turned to each of them, then made his slow progress back down to his counter, where she knew he would remain, till he got thirsty and made them both a cup of tea.

"Shakes a lot, doesn't he?" Draco muttered, leaning out of the doorway to watch the small muggle make his way down the precarious set of wooden stairs.

"Shh, he's old, it's not his fault." Draco's grin only widened.

"Got a thing about clothes too." He pointed out, admiring yet another sign on appropriate clothing. This one had what looked like a cape, with a thick red line drawn through it.

"That would be our fault, too many witches and wizards not returning books," Hermione stated matter of fact. Draco's eyes rose slightly, as he turned back to the poster.

"Still, I wouldn't have called this strange." Draco gestured to himself, swinging round to face her with a flourish. Hermione rolled her eyes. "And I wouldn't have called it funeral attire either. These are the finest pair of dragon skin shoes on the market, and these," Draco gestured to his trousers pompously, "best magically woven cotton there is, the price of these alone could keep the weasel clan fed for at least a month." Draco stated snootily, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Save me the "I'm richer than you are" speech, and I'd prefer it if you didn't use my friends to make your idiotic points.' Placing her bag down by her side, Hermione made herself comfortable in front of a small bookshelf, pulling out a small book.

"Not idiotic Granger, true."

"Either way, leave Harry and Ron out of it." Draco sighed.

"Whatever, I still don't think I'm dressed for a funeral." He muttered, making the small witch sigh in exasperation.

"Will you...look I had to think of something, and a funeral was the first thing that popped into my head. Perhaps you should be worrying more about the Dragon Pox." Hermione's lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked at the back of the Slytherins head, folding her arms angrily when she saw his shoulders shaking.

"Sorry, I forgot my audience." He replied sheepishly, shooting Hermione an innocent glance over his shoulder. "So,' Draco said, after a few moments of silence, "what's the plan" he placed the volume back on the shelf, clicking his fingers, as he wandered between the shelves.

"We look for books that could help us, anything pertaining to the 14th century and onwards."

"Pertaining? Who talks like that, Granger?"

"I do, now get looking."

"Don't you think this would be easier if, I don't know, we knew what we were looking for?" Draco suggested, making his way back to where Hermione was sat. He smiled slightly at how at home she looked amongst the dust and the words.

"Yes, infinitely easier, but we don't, so...hate to sound like a nag but, get looking." Hermione coughed as she pulled another book from the shelf, and a plume of dust followed it. Draco chuckled, shaking his head.

"Quite the slave driver aren't we?" He tipped his head slightly as he began reading the titles of books. He was slightly impressed by the old man's collection, some of his volumes were almost as old as the ones shut away in the Malfoy archives, and on obscurity, the doddering old collector won hands down. Draco peaked at Hermione, wondering how many times she had been there, sat amongst the shelves lost in pages of other people's imaginations. A small thrill went through him at the thought of him being there, with her. They were spending time together, she'd shown him her life away from Hogwarts. He felt like he was making progress, progress that he had no way of measuring, or even remotely understanding. But it was progress nonetheless.

Hours passed quickly, melting into one another, as Hermione disappeared behind a pile of books, and Draco's white shirt got covered in dust, his hair flying out in all directions, from him running his hand through it in frustration. He was beginning to lose hope. With a sigh he sat on a small chest tucked up the corner, watching as Hermione placed another book on her pile, and proceeding to slide another off the shelf, without even looking up.

He wondered vaguely how she managed it. He didn't mind books, in fact, he thought they were incredibly helpful when the occasion called for it. But this was just sheer torture. With no point of reference or place to start, they were just flicking through muggle drivel that made him want to pull out his own fingernails. He found that muggle wrote books about the weirdest, wonderful and incredibly boring things, which was saying something considering he'd flicked through a rather large tome detailing the Battle of Snagbloom. He cast a glance down at his shirt and groaned.

"Ruined,' He muttered, pulling at the white material to get a better view. "Granger, you owe me a new shirt." The Bushy haired witch glanced up slightly, before looking straight back down.

"I don't owe you anything, Malfoy, it's your fault for not being more careful."

"Careful? Everything is caked in a lifetime worth of dust, how in Merlin's name am I supposed to be careful."

"Shh,' Hermione looked up sharply, holding her finger in front of her lips. "What did I tell you about Merlin? I swear you alone are going to reveal the wizarding world to the entire muggle race, with that big mouth of yours" she whispered, glancing towards the doorway.

"Oh please, like the shaking muggle is going to hear us all the way up here." Hermione shook her head slightly, turning the page. After a moment of reading her eyes began to widen.

"Oh look," Hermione she stated, holding a small brown book in the air, "I've found something.' Draco quickly stood, making his way over to Hermione, carefully picking his way past her pile of books to settle down by her side.

"What is it?" He sniffed, not bothering to read the small writing.

"It says there was a battle at Wexland Point, a battle between Lord Arden Masarvas and Lord Tharan Morax, the witch hunter. Most speculate that the battle was to end a dispute that had raged between the pair for many years, others suggest that it was a matter of land. However, one curious explanation is that Lord Masarvas took an opposing view to Lord Morax's witch hunting."

"Opposing view, you can say that again," Draco muttered, leaning in closer, his arm brushing against Hermione's.

"The battle was said to have raged for several days, with Lord Masarvas men all but slain. Lord Masarvas himself fled the battle and nothing was heard of the man again. Most believe that he died from wounds sustained during the fight."

"Or he ran away to his magical friends with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. So Arden and Tharin fought." Draco said, leaning back against the shelf, wincing as the wood dug into his back.

"And Arden lost." As soon as the words left Hermione's mouth, Draco felt a shift in the Sensieve's magic, as if it were taking up all available space in the room, making it hard to breathe.

"Granger," He spluttered, grabbing Hermione's arm, "do you feel that?" She turned to him, her eyes like saucers, and nodded slightly.

"It's just like in the library.' She whispered as if the Sensieve would hear her.

Shakily she got to her feet and Draco followed suit, gripping her arm again, telling himself it was because he needed something to ground him, and not because he liked being close to her. The Sensieve's magic shifted again, pushing them forwards. When they reached a shelf at the far end of the room, Draco felt a heavy weight on his shoulders, forcing him to his knees. Then the feeling went as if it had never been there. The only clue to the Senisieve's magic was the familiar thrum of magic, around where his hand held Hermione's arm.

"It's got to be on this shelf," Hermione stated, shaking off Draco's hand and pulling out books to examine them.

"What?" Draco said in a daze.

"The Sensieve, it must want to show us something on this shelf." Draco glanced at the shelf in front of him. There were lots of books, they all looked the same as every other book he'd looked at all day. Boring, dusty and old. But one glowed.

It stood proudly in the middle, its spine giving off a faint light. With shaking fingers Draco reached for it, feeling magic tingle up his arm as soon as he touched it. It was a small black book, no writing along the spine or on the cover to hint as to what was inside, but Draco knew it was important, he could feel it. He opened the cover and sucked in a breath.

"Granger." The witch paused in her searching and looked up at the blonde.

"What?"

"Look." Hermione shifted closer, taking the book from his hands. Her eyes widened when she read the words.

The Mystery of the Missing Commander - The Life and Disappearance of Commander Edward James


	37. Almost

Hermione opened up the book slowly, letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"It's the..the authors note," Hermione whispered, unsure of why she felt the need to tell Draco.

"What's it say?" He asked, leaning forward slightly. Hermione made herself comfortable on the floor, leaning against a bookshelf, legs stretched out before her. She cleared her throat gently and began to read.

"It's with a heavy heart that I collate my findings and publish them here. The mystery of Commander Edward James is one that has taken me on many adventures that I hardly dreamed possible.

I have long pondered the massacre of Highwall End, where a small contingency of 50 men were found; their bodies in various stages of rot and decay, and as legends dictate, bearing wounds that no earthly being could inflict. Given the penchant for fanciful writing at the time and the ever-increasing belief in witchcraft and the dark arts, I am inclined to believe that, perhaps the wounds were not so unearthly.

One mystery however has, I must admit, kept me awake at night; the case of the missing Commander. Of all the bodies listed, all of the men were accounted for, bar one: that of Commander Edward James. There have been several theories as to way over the years; one of these being as simple as his body having never been recovered, others that the unearthly being had taken the Commander with him to hell, and even that he simply abandoned his post, and ran to be with the woman he loved. Others believe that his body was found, simply never identified.

My research has lead me to believe that the body of Commander Edward James was never found. In all writings of the time, he is a popular figure, having waged war quite successfully on numerous occasions. The Battle of Black Lake being the most famous. The Commander was deemed a more than capable leader, fearless and unmatched on the battlefield. So how did such a well-known figure simply disappear?

I have worked my way through a vast amount of records, travelled the entirety of England, collecting what evidence I could find on the man. Now I present this book, wherein I aim; to bring the name, Commander Edward James to life, debunk several theories that have circulated with annoying popularity, and lastly present my own theory of what transpired that fateful night at Highwall End.

I cannot explain the years lost to finding a man that died hundreds of years ago, only that every man finds a mystery he cannot solve but sinks his life into it regardless. Highwall End and Commander James are my mysteries and I hope that this book has done, both the event and the man, some semblance of justice, and brought to light all that which was cast in shadow.

Enjoy

Charles W Knight"

Both Draco and Hermione remained silent after she finished reading, the sound of children's laughter filtering in from outside, feeling strangely light in the heaviness of the air.

"Massacre, what massacre?" Draco asked finally. His head tipped back against some books, turning slightly to look at young witch shrugged.

"I don't know. Perhaps we haven't seen it yet." Hermione closed the book, climbing to her feet and glancing around the room. "How did you find this?" She muttered, holding the book towards him. Draco looked down at the book then back up at the Gryffindor.

"It was glowing." He shrugged his shoulders as if it were no big deal.

"What?"

"I looked along the shelf, and that was...was glowing." Hermione squeaked as he said it, rushing forward and dragging the confused Slytherin to his feet. "Woah, what..what now, Granger?" Hermione ignored him, pushing forward into the centre of the room.

"Look around." She commanded, glancing around at the books suspiciously. Draco sighed, doing as she asked, though rather begrudgingly.

"I'm looking." He said, dryly.

"Annnnnd?" Hermione asked, smiling hopefully.

"And what, Granger?"

"Annd do you see anything? Is there anything glowing?" Draco turned to Hermione, raising his eyebrow.

"You cannot be serious, Granger, that was...well, I don't know what that was, but I highly doubt it's going to happen again. Books don't just go around glowing."

"You don't know that."

"On the contrary, Granger, that's something that I know with absolute certainty." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Still, it's worth a try, now…" Hermione grabbed the Slytherins arms and turned him back around, "Stop complaining and look."

"Fine,' Draco sighed, "but I don't think this is going to work."

"Less talking, more looking." Hermione singsonged.

Draco began wandering between the shelves, halfheartedly glancing at the spines of books that in no way glowed. It wasn't that he didn't want to look, it was more to do with the fact that he didn't want her to be disappointed when all the looking in the world turned out to be fruitless. The wonder and happiness that had shone so brightly in her eyes at the finding of the book was a rare thing for him to see, and he didn't want to ruin it.

He ran his fingers along the shelf in front of him, watching the thick layers of dust gather, and fall to the floor in great grey flakes. As he lifted his hand, to dislodge yet more of the many years worth of dust, something glimmered in his peripheral. Sucking in a breath he slowly turned, glancing down at a small pile, leaning rather precariously against the side of the shelf. Many of the books were in various stages of disrepair, pages hanging out at odd angles, spines only just managing to hang on. In amongst the wounded was a single book with no cover; it's binding on display, its delicate pages more dog-eared and weathered than most, and in the dimness of the attic room, it glowed.

Draco stared at it for some time, hardly believing what he was seeing. Hermione Granger was right again. He almost rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. Of course, she was right, Hermione Granger was always right, that was what made her so unbelievably infuriating, and annoyingly intelligent. Slowly he knelt down, easing the worn book from the pile delicately, trying not to dislodge any pages.

 **Tharin Morax: Witch Trials and Executions**. The writing was in bold black ink, a medieval drawing of a woman hanging naked from a rope decorating the paper beneath it. Draco gulped, bile rising in his throat as he remembered Sonyea; her bruised and mutilated body, the creak of wood as the rope had swayed in the breeze. He ripped his gaze from the picture, turning to Hermione, reminding himself where he was.

"Granger." He stated, holding the book out to the Gryffindor as she turned to look at him. "Look at this."

Hermione stepped forward, taking the book gently from Draco's hands, holding it before her with wonder.

"Was it glowing?" She asked, gently opening the book onto the first page. Draco nodded, shaking his head in mild amusement as Hermione shot him an I-told-you-so-look, then glanced back down at the book.

As Hermione turned another page, she sucked in a breath, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly dropped the book. She held it out to him, gesturing that he should look. **Notice of execution** was stamped across the top of the page, then beneath several names were listed. Draco looked up at Hermione, his forehead furrowed in confusion.

"It's the notice of execution,' she said softly, sadness creeping into her voice, "the one that Mina had." Draco's eyes widened in realisation, he glanced down the names and felt the hurt all over again as he saw Sonyea's.

"You know what this means?" Hermione breathed, tapping her finger gently against the page.

"What?" Draco asked, not looking up.

"It means they're real, all of it. All the memories, everything. It's all true."

"Well, we knew that." He scoffed, crossing his arms.

"But here's proof. Actual, real tangible, proof." Draco took the book out of Hermione's hands, flicking through it absent-mindedly, his gut clenching uncomfortably at the pictures that reminded him all too readily of the atrocities he had seen whilst experiencing Edwards life.

"I think you're forgetting the wand we found, the ring, the book, oh and I don't know the big stone carving that leads to a persistent bo…" Draco trailed off when he spotted something in the book, drawing it closer to his face as he read. "What the…" He started, as he brought it even closer, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him.

'What?" Hermione asked, standing on her tiptoes, trying desperately to get a look. "What is it?"

"It can't be." Draco shook his head.

"What? What can't be?"

Hesitantly, Draco handed the book to Hermione, letting her look at the page for a while before speaking.

"Arden, he was working with Tharin."

"That's not possible, they went to war, they...they hated one another." Hermione spluttered, not really believing her own argument as she stared at the evidence before her. The chapter stated that documents were retrieved from Tharin's private collection, and beneath were photocopies of the rather delicate paperwork.

 _Of particular note are the numerous missives, sent between Lord Tharin Morax and Lord Arden Masarvas during the time of Lord Morax's famous witch hunts. In many of the letters, Lord Arden details the whereabouts of several practitioners of the Dark Arts. Many of these individuals were later executed._

Hermione's bottom lip shook as she read one of the letters, feeling anger boil in her stomach. It explained in great detail that a witch was hiding in the cave system, halfway up Demon's tooth. The author had annotated the letter, believing the information to be false, _as Demon's tooth was notoriously treacherous, and living up there would have been ultimately impossible_. But Hermione knew better, she could see Sonyea sitting near her small fire, making a pot of tea as she waited for Mina to return.

"He knew." Hermione's voice wobbled as she said it, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she looked up at Draco. "He knew where Sonyea was hiding, and he….and he told Tharin." Draco watched Hermione with a heavy heart, he'd hoped the information would have made her happy, but instead she was close to tears. He took the book from her and placed it back on its pile, and Hermione instantly began pacing, her small hands balling into fists.

"Can you believe the nerve of him, his own people?" She screeched, shaking her head. Any tears that had fallen from her eyes she brushed away angrily. "He would give up his fellow witches and wizards, for what?" Draco shrugged, suppressing a smile at the sight before him. He knew that girls had mood swings; Merlin, Pansy was more unpredictable and volatile than a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but watching Hermione swing from upset, straight to full-blown angry, was both interesting and unnerving.

Hermione stopped pacing looking up at him, her eyes slightly red, her nostrils flaring, and a huge black smudge on her cheek. Draco couldn't help the laughter that burst out of him at the sight.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked, defensively, thinking it was just like the first class prat, to laugh at her being genuinely upset.

"You've got a bit of…" He gestured to his own cheek, tapping his finger against it, as realisation dawned on Hermione's face, and she fumbled to wipe her cheek, blushing profusely. "Left a bit, now down, no down a bit more." Draco chuckled slightly as she followed his instructions, but only managed to spread it across her cheek. "No, Granger, you're just making it worse." Sighing he pulled her hand down, licking his thumb and wiping the offending stain.

Midway through he realised exactly what he was doing, and how dangerously close they were standing. He chanced a glance at Hermione, gulping heavily when he noticed she was staring up at him, her eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted. The mark had gone, but he brushed her cheek one last time with the pad of his thumb, enjoying the softness. His heart raced in his chest when the action made her breath catch.

"It's...it's gone." He mumbled quietly, not daring to move, in case whatever magic or spell they were under got broken.

"Oh," Hermione answered, her cheeks a charming red, her gaze searching as she looked at the Slytherin. Draco gulped, staring at her lips, and wondering -not for the first time- what exactly they would taste like. Hesitantly he leant forward, his eyes darting between watching for a reaction and being hypnotised by the sheer redness of her lips.

"Malfoy?" Hermione uttered his name like a question.

"Granger." His answered, his voice strangled by how much he wanted to kiss her, and how scared he was that he was actually going to.

"Tea." The gruff voice of Mr Rowland called from the doorway, and both of them jumped, quickly creating as much distance as they could between each other. Draco turned and pretended to peruse a shelf of books, his cheeks flaming. He ran his hand through his hair, berating himself mentally for his own stupidity. What had he honestly planned to do? Kiss Hermione Granger and hope she didn't hex him into oblivion, or hit him, or tell him to take his pureblood arse somewhere else? He groaned slightly, the sheer magnitude of his idiocy punching him in the gut.

With a sigh, he turned and watched Hermione chat happily with Mr Rowland.

"How are you two getting on?" He asked, taking a book from the floor and placing it back on the shelf.

"Pretty good," Hermione stated, but Draco was sure he heard her voice shake as she met his gaze. "We've managed to find a couple of really helpful books." Draco nodded in agreement and the old man smiled, his small beady eyes shimmering in the dimness of the attic.

"Well, just to let you know, I'll be shutting up shop real soon." With that, the old man shook his way to the door, waved once, and left.

The air was heavy with questions that Hermione simply wasn't voicing. Draco felt like he should say something, but was pretty sure that anything he did say, would only serve to make things more awkward. Especially considering his explanation consisted of 'I'm sorry but I wanted to kiss you', he couldn't see Granger taking that very well. He sat down next to the tea tray, which was balanced precariously on a pile of books. He stared at the floral patterned cups, desperate to find something to say, something that would clear the air.

"You sure Mr Rowland isn't a wizard?" Draco asked, and Hermione turned to him, her forehead furrowed adorably in confusion.

"Yes, why?"

"That man shakes when he's breathing, how in Merlin's name did he make it all the way up here, without spilling anything?" Hermione smiled slightly, a small chuckle escaping her. It wasn't much, but it was a start.


	38. Alleyways and Secret Rooms

Draco turned as he heard the lock to Borrow. Read. Return. click just in time so see Hermione waving at the old man. He was surprised how quickly the day had gone, what with reading books, choking on dust, and trying not kiss Hermione being the only things to keep him busy. He took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of the fresh air on his face, and the cleanness of it filling his lungs.

"I worry about him sometimes," Hermione muttered, more to herself than anyone else, but Draco looked down at her anyway.

"Who?"

"Mr Rowland. He's in the shop, all on his own. What if something happens to him?" Draco shrugged slightly, inspecting the cobbled stones beneath his feet.

"I don't know, that man seemed pretty okay with the whole, being on his own. He couldn't get us out of his shop fast enough." Hermione chuckled slightly, nodding a little in agreement. "And besides, if anything does happen to him then…."

"HERMIONE." Draco jumped at the sound of Hermione's name being screeched at them. He turned and saw a girl running towards them.

"Friend of yours?" He asked. Hermione had frozen, her shoulders set, and her face contorted in horror.

"HERMIONE." The girl shouted again.

"Oh geez, hide," Hermione whispered, pulling him around the corner quickly.

"I don't know where you think we are going to hi…" He stopped as Hermione yanked him into a small alley, dragging him into the darkness. "Granger, what the..wow did we take a sharp turn into Knockturn Alley." He muttered glancing around the small space. The alleyway was long, a damp smell lingering in the air.

"Just shhh would you, you'll get us caught," Hermione whispered back.

"And Merlin forbid that should ever happen." Hermione eventually stopped when they reached the end of the alley, her eyes wide as she stared at the entrance.

"I've forgotten what daylight looks like," Draco muttered forlornly.

"Shhhh." Hermione hissed. Draco smirked down at her.

"Wow, the Gryffindor bravery is out in droves today. First, you try and stuff me into a cupboard, and now this." Hermione scowled at him.

"Look will you just…" Hermione sucked in a breath as the girl with red hair, and a floral dress wandered past, looking rather confused. She disappeared from sight and Hermione breathed out, visibly relaxing.

Draco made a move to leave the confined space, but Hermione grabbed his arm, her eyes pleading.

"She might still be out there." Draco pulled his arm from Hermione's grip, trying to ignore how nice it felt, and the tingle of the Sensieve's magic.

"Honestly Granger, I'm pretty sure she's gon…" He choked on his words as the redhead once again walked past, casting glances here and there.

"She never gives up, I'm telling you." Hermione uttered, shaking her head.

"The greatest young witch of our age and she can't even deal with a persistent muggle. Well, that's just disappointing." Draco allowed himself a chuckle but stopped when he noticed that Hermione was staring at him as if he'd confessed his undying love for muggles. "What?" He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Did you...I swear that you just...just complimented me." Draco paused, going back over what he'd said mentally, horror dawning on him, as he realised that he had in fact paid her a compliment, a huge compliment. He coughed uncomfortably.

"Yeah well, don't..don't get used to it." He absentmindedly unrolled his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs. "What's so atrocious about this girl anyway, apart from her obvious superior intellect." He muttered sarcastically, gesturing toward the floral- dress- wearing-red-head, walking past the entrance to the alleyway yet again, without considering it as a probable hiding place. The Gryffindor sighed heavily, leaning against the wall behind her.

"Olivia and I, we actually used to be friends, really close friends. We went to Primary School together."

"Primary School?"

"Let me guess, you were homeschooled before Hogwarts?"

"Of course." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Why am I not surprised."

"Bit off topic, don't you think, Granger." He uttered warningly, leaning against the wall next to Hermione.

"Okay well, it's a school you attend before somewhere like Hogwarts, they teach you the basics, like reading and writing."

"Ah, perhaps that's what Crabbe and Goyle needed," Draco muttered to himself.

"Anyway, we were inseparable. Before Harry and Ron, she was…" Hermione paused, remembering who it was she was talking to.

"She was what?" Draco asked, pushing himself off the wall and turning to look at her.

"Nothing," Hermione muttered, shaking her head.

"Well, you can't do that, Granger. That's hardly fair." Hermione scoffed, folding her arms.

"Fine, she was my only friend." Draco's eyes bugged out of his head, uncertain of what to say. He couldn't imagine anyone not wanting to spend time with the Gryffindor. While she was insufferable, she was also smart and witty, and pretty. Draco mentally groaned, fighting the urge to hex himself. "Anyway," Hermione carried on, incredibly shocked that the Slytherin hadn't said anything, her lack of friends should of, at the very least, earned her a sneer, "She left to attend this 'prestigious' boarding school, and when she came back, she just wasn't the same." Draco nodded, pretending to understand but failing miserably. "She didn't want to know me anymore, said that I wasn't smart enough."

"Oh, well you know that's a huge pile of dragons dung right?" Hermione laughed, looking up at Draco, her eyes slightly glassy.

"Well after that I didn't see her much. Then I got a letter from Hogwarts, and well, now she want's to talk to me. Of course, it's all about mundane crap that I'm not interested in but, I guess I still can't forget that she was mean to me."

"Nor should you. We Malfoy's are strong believers in holding a grudge." Hermione laughed again.

"Are you trying to make me feel better?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, trying to suppress her smile.

"Me, a Malfoy, trying to make someone feel better? Don't be ridiculous." Draco smirked. "But more to the point, is it working?"

"A little bit," Hermione answered, turning away. Suddenly her eyes widened in horror, the redheaded girl and several other girls had stopped near the entrance of the alleyway.

"I'm sure I saw her." The redhead said, placing her hands on her hips and glancing around.

"Well, she's gone now." Another stated, her hair long and straight. She wound one strand around her finger absentmindedly.

"She can't have gone far." The redhead said again, leaning against the entrance to the alleyway, sighing heavily.

"You have to question the prestigious muggle education," Draco whispered. Hermione slapped the top of his arm, just as the girls head whipped around, obviously hearing their exchange from the depths of the alleyway. Slowly she turned.

"Oh geez, we need to hide, leave, disapparate, anything." Hermione uttered in panic.

Draco sighed, messing up his hair and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. With very little effort he pushed her against the bricks, stepping into her space till his body was flush against hers, arms braced against the wall either side of her head.

"What are you doing?" Hermione spluttered, her face turning red, but her brown eyes glared up at him angrily.

"Put your arms around me, Granger." Hermione tried to recoil, pushing against his chest to get away.

"Are you crazy?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm trying to get you out of talking to that muggle, now,' He looked down at her pointedly, " put your arms around me." Slowly, hesitantly she did, and Draco almost shivered, the feeling far too good. The distaste on Hermione's face though, hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

Gritting his teeth, he stepped in as close as he could, the magic of the sensieve heavy in the air, his heart hammering in his chest. He found himself staring at her lips, pressed into a thin line as she stared at him angrily. He gulped, hesitantly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Footsteps echoed through the small space as the redhead began walking into the darkness.

"Liv, what are you doing?" One her friends asked, her whiney voice bouncing off the bricks towards them.

"Just shh, I think...I think I heard something."

"Yeah, an axe murderer waiting to kill you." One stated, and the rest of the girls chuckled.

"Shut up you guys. Hermione?" She called uncertainly. Quickly Draco turned, blocking her view of a rather red, rather annoyed Hermione.

"Sorry, this alley is taken." He drawled, smirking at her, and turning back to the Gryffindor.

"Oh." The girl spluttered, stepping back and exiting the alleyway, her steps quick and flustered. Her friends erupted into giggles.

"Oh my god, in the alleyway, as if."

"Was he hot?" Their conversation died away, as the gaggle of girls moved on, Olivia leading the way.

Draco grinned, "Worked like a charm." He stepped back, and Hermione quickly pulled her arms from around him.

'I still don't see why I had to be pushed...never mind." Hermione stuttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well it wouldn't have worked very well if you'd been stood the opposite end of the alleyway to me, would it?" Hermione ignored him, hesitantly making her way to the alleyway entrance. She quickly cast a look both ways and breathed a sigh of relief.

"She's gone."

"See, told you, like a charm."

"Hmmm." Hermione pursed her lips, choosing not to say any more about the embarrassing experience.

The walk back was relatively uneventful and predominantly quiet. Hermione cast quick glances at her Slytherin companion, wondering what on earth had gotten into him. Not only was he behaving, but he was actually being considerate, and nice and - dare she even think it - paying her compliments. She'd noticed the slight, subtle changes in him, but being away from Hogwarts seemed to make him a different person altogether.

Then there was the incident in the attic. She'd pondered over whether she'd been imagining things because she'd been certain he'd been about to kiss her. She knew she wasn't in the habit of hallucinating, but given that it was Draco Malfoy she was on about, hallucinating seemed like the only explanation. Added to that was the fact that she wasn't completely and utterly disgusted by the idea, more curious. Hermione shook her head, glancing again at the Slytherin. He seemed unfazed, unfussed, even after the fiasco in the alleyway.

Draco mentally berated himself each step he took. He had promised himself that he would be careful, keep a nice amount of distance, not attempt to kiss her, or hold her, or trap her against an alleyway wall. Of course, he reminded himself, there had been a reason, but he knew it was a pathetic reason. There were a myriad of other things he could have done, one of which being letting the Gryffindor get caught. It would have been the most Slytherin, the most Malfoy thing to do. At the rate he was going through, he could hardly call himself either. He wondered vaguely if he could get out of dinner, feign a family emergency, fake sickness, anything to get away from the bushy haired witch.

He was dragged out of his own world when they stopped at Hermione's front door. Using her key, she quickly stepped over the threshold.

"Hello," Hermione called, taking off her shoes, and throwing them in the cupboard beneath the stairs.

"Ooo hello." Hermione's mom popped her head around the door, smiling brightly at them. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yes, we found...we found lots of useful things," Hermione muttered, looking up at Draco then looking away almost immediately.

"Why don't you go and show him your secret room." Hermione's mom hinted.

"Mom!" Hermione exclaimed, blushing profusely. "There is a reason why it's called secret."

"Oh nonsense, you should show him, I think Draco here will find it quite interesting."

"No, absolutely not," Draco winced at the sound of Hermione's dad's voice filtering in from the front room. "I'll have no bo…" Hermione's mother shut the door, cutting off whatever argument he'd been about to make.

"Off you go," she stated, waving the two youngsters towards the stairs.

Hermione sighed, leading Draco up the stairs towards her room. Draco stared in wonder all around him. He was so used to large stone walls and floors, great chandeliers and moving oil paintings, that the sight of Hermione's rather small and quaint wallpapered home had his mouth dropping open. More pictures line the stairs, and again these didn't move but instead stayed unnervingly frozen. Draco resisted the urge to tap the glass.

Hermione opened the door to her room, and Draco looked around slowly, soaking everything in. It was smaller than he'd expected and quite bare. For some reason, he'd expected the Gryffindors room to match her moods, colourful and a little bit all over the place.

Hermione stood in the middle of her room, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. It was one thing letting a Malfoy into her home, let alone letting a Malfoy into her bedroom. She felt bare and exposed, certain all the kindness the blonde seemed to have shown her, would run out at any minute. With a sigh, she walked over to a large floor to ceiling bookshelf that her father had fitted. She reached down the side and released a hook, pushing it away from the wall and letting it swing on its hinges.

"That is impressive." Draco grinned, as the shelf revealed a small doorway. Hermione smiled slightly stepping into it. Draco hesitated but followed soon after.

The room was small, the walls completely covered in newspaper clippings, various headlines that detailed strange and unexplained instances in the muggle world. Draco smiled as he noticed the presence of magic in each and every one of them.

"Before attending Hogwarts, my dad started collecting these for me." Hermione gestured to the clippings, smiling shyly. "It was a...a connection I suppose." She shrugged, turning away from the Slytherins gaze.

Draco couldn't speak. Guilt burned in the pit of his stomach as he remembered how often he'd told her she didn't belong in the wizarding world. He'd never thought how much that would have affected her, hurt her, especially considering she didn't feel she fit in the muggle world either.

"Granger I.." He stopped as the walls began to change, green pillars replacing the walls of Hermione's bedroom.

"What the...I didn't think this was possible." Hermione said, staring around the room open-mouthed.

The Sensieve rose from out the floor, allowing only a moment for the pair to look at each other before they were pulled into its depths.


	39. Keeping a Promise

The forest was dark and quiet, Mina's hastened breath the only sound, as she made her way through the dense undergrowth. Though the night was black - no moon or stars to speak of in the sky, but thick grey cloud's choking out the light - Mina could see clearly. The magic of everything surrounding her was alive in the air, trails of different coloured light that guided her path. Water soaked her thick skirt as she brushed along the leaves, still wet from the rain that had fallen in great sheets that very morning. Mina stilled, hardly able to believe that it had only been that morning when she had lost her friend. The day seemed to have crawled by at such a slow pace, that she felt like weeks had passed, and she had not moved.

The pain of losing Sonyea was still fresh, the wound sore and deep, aching in her chest. More had followed; more witches and wizards, more men women and children. Some of them had never known magic in their entire lives, and yet still they hung.

Mina had shook in Edward's arms, as innocent after innocent was hung, their chokes dense and thick in the air. It didn't take long for the crowd to disperse, once the executioners had exhausted their supply of people to kill, they all simply lost interest. Mina watched in horror as they all simply went back to their day as if nothing had happened as if there weren't a pile of bodies in the centre of their village.

Edward had pulled away, holding the tops of her arms ferociously, and staring deep into her eyes. Mina had caught her breath at the longing, the agony swirling in their blue depths, and everything she had ever felt for the man came rushing back. He'd told her to meet him in the woods after dark, his voice hushed as he leant forward. She'd closed her eyes as she felt his warm breath against her ear. Then he had gone, reluctantly releasing her, and melting into the dispersing crowd as if he had never been there.

She didn't know how long she had stood in the village centre, watching water trickle between the limbs of her fallen brothers and sisters, thinking of Sonyea right at the very bottom; choking, dying, reaching out for help. Mina stopped walking, sucking in greedy breaths as her heart began to race, and her hands shook. With great difficulty she tried to concentrate on happier moments, better things; Sonyea laughing at her when they were children, and the world had no dark corners, no secrets. Sonyea sat at her fire, waiting in the depths of the cave system, a steaming mug of tea in her hands.

Mina pressed her shaking hand against her mouth to stifle the wail of grief that threatened to rise from the depth of her. After a moment, she straightened herself up, taking deep shuddering breaths, and slowly placed one foot in front of the other. She brushed the tears from her cheeks and lifted her head up high.

It wasn't long before she neared the clearing where she and Edward had spoken together many times. Those moments with him seemed like an age ago, like someone else's memories. She paused as she saw him, a small lantern at his feet, it's light casting a small halo. He was gazing at the floor, his forearms resting against his knees, back hunched, as if the weight of the world sat upon his shoulders.

"Mina." He said, looking up into the darkness. She gasped slightly, certain that he couldn't see her, and yet he knew. "I know you're there Mina." He added tiredly, standing up.

With a sigh, Mina stepped into the glow of light, pulling her shawl around her shoulders tighter and eyeing him nervously. Every certainty she'd felt about him seemed to have gone. As if sensing this, Edward sat back down heavily, sadness pulling down the corners of his mouth as he looked up at her.

"You came." He said simply, and Mina nodded, not trusting herself to speak, not knowing what she would say if she did. "I...Your friend.."

"Soneya." Mina's voice was thick with grief as she uttered her friend's name, feeling her bottom lip wobble. Edward looked at her with such sorrow, seeming as though he was going to move toward her, then he stopped, looking back down at the ground.

"I'm sorry." His voice was laden with so much sorrow, that Mina was left in no doubt that he meant it. "Sonyea, she..I owe my life to her." Mina stepped forward slightly.

"What happened? Were you there..were you there when she was caught?" Mina couldn't help the questions rushing out, stopping in shock, placing her hand over her mouth. Edward did not seem bothered by her outburst, only nodding slightly, pushing himself off the log again, and standing on the very edge of his halo of light, looking out into the darkness. Slowly, uncertainly, Edward explained, relaying all that had happened, all that had been said. Mina did not interrupt him, did not move, but simply stared at the back of his head.

"I was dying and she...I don't know what she did but I'm here and…" Edward didn't continue, instead, he turned and looked at Mina. "I would beg your forgiveness if I thought I deserved it." Mina felt anger burning in her gut, felt the desperation to do something, anything to avenge her friend, but she knew that she could not.

"They took her, and you did nothing?" Mina whispered, her hands shaking. Edward hung his head and said nothing.

"You lead those..those demons to where she was hiding, and you did nothing?" Mina stepped closer to him, letting her shawl fall off her shoulder, and onto the dirt behind her, her hands balled into fists.

"Mina I…"

"And then, when you knew she would be killed, when you could have atoned, you not only stop me from helping but do nothing yourself?"

"They would have killed you." Mina closed the space between them, hitting him over and over, tears painting her cheeks.

"I do not care about my life, do you honestly believe that anything they could have done to me could have been worse, that...than this?"

"Yes." Mina paused as he said this, looking up at him, her heart racing. Edward's face was close to hers, slowly he slid his hand round the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, palm resting against her pulse. His thumb gently brushed a tear from her cheek. "You have to understand Mina, I would do anything, give anything to keep you safe." He muttered down at her.

"Even people's lives?" Mina asked, her eyes narrowing at him, wanting to hate him but finding increasingly difficult.

"Anything." Mina went to pull away but he held on.

"Leave me..let me go." At those words, Edward let go, and Mina stumbled back. "How can you speak of people's lives as if they are something you control as if you have a right to take them." Edward sighed, rubbing his hand across his face.

"I do not presume that I have any right, Mina, the opposite in fact. But for you...for you, that doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter? Doesn't matter? Do you think that such a brutish approach to my protection would persuade me to consider you favourably?" Edward laughed bitterly.

"You think that I do this for favour?"

"Why else would a man force his intentions upon a woman." Edward stared at her open-mouthed for a second.

"Do you hear yourself? There is a war coming, more bloodshed, more hate, more darkness than anything you have ever experienced. And you speak of forcing intentions, seeking favour. Mina, I do this because you are the one good thing in my life. Regardless of how I am affected, what you think or believe of me, I would do anything to keep you from harm."

"My life doesn't matter." Mina bit out, grinding her teeth together. Edward shook his head.

"Do you think, Sonyea would want this." He gestured to Mina.

"Do not...do not speak of Sonyea as if you knew her...she was my friend, how dare you presume to understand what she would or would not have wanted." Edward stepped toward her.

"She gave her life saving me," He pointed at his chest, "and I know she did it for your happiness. She said...she said that you were not safe, that Arden.."

"What about him?" Mina's eyes narrowed.

"That you were not safe with him, that he wishes to go to war." Mina sighed, feeling all the anger leave her in a moment. Even when her own life was still uncertain, Sonyea never ceased to be so achingly Gryffindor. Mina wanted to curl up in a ball and sob. Sonyea was and had always been the better person, and she had been the one to die.

"Mina." Her breath caught as he took her face in his hands, his own dangerously close. "Mina, come away with me, we can….we can get away from this, from this war. It is not ours to fight." Mina shook her head, tears falling from her eyes.

"It is, it is mine." at first she whispered, but her voice grew in strength, and Edward stepped away sighing, "I cannot simply walk away when innocents are being killed. I have to help them."

"No, no you don't." Edward ran his hand through his hair. "You wanted to leave before, you were ready to leave all this behind, what has changed?" Mina stared at Edward and realised that the girl that had made that proposal no longer existed, she had been worn down and out of existence by the agony she had endured.

"Everything." She whispered, walking over to the log and sitting down. She didn't know that there was much more to say, but she did not wish to leave him, not yet.

"Then I will stay," Edward said, after a moment of silence, and Mina looked up at him in shock.

"You do not have to, go, run, be free from all this…"

"You think that I could leave you?"

"You have done it before." Mina bit back, and Edward sighed, sitting next to her on the log.

"I had my reasons, Mina, you must know I would never leave you of my own accord." Mina shot him an angry look and moved away from him, pacing the small halo of light, before looking back at him.

"I do not understand Commander, you deny a woman when she throws herself into your arms, and yet force yourself upon her when she has no wish of you." Anger bubbled in Mina's gut as Edward rolled his eyes and turned away. "Do not look away from me Commander, you will explain yourself." Edward looked amused when he met her gaze.

"Spoken like a true lady." He mocked.

"My friend is dead because of you, and you are making jokes." Mina pointed her finger accusingly at him.

"I am simply pointing out a fact, my lady, I did not mean to offend." He stood from the log and bowed low, then looked up at her pointedly. "Is this how you want to do this, my lady?" He asked, his eyes dark.

"I do not understand?" Mina backed away slightly, feeling a shift in the air, she had made him angry, of that she was certain.

"Do you want to push me away because I hurt you, pretend that there is nothing between us?" He advanced with every word, his voice getting louder, and Mina stumbled back till her back hit the trunk of a tree. For a moment she looked around in panic, then she lifted her chin, hoping to appear as if she were standing her ground.

"There is nothing between us Commander it was you who said…" Her words were cut off as Edward took her face in both of his hands and pressed his lips against hers, pushing her back against the rough bark, his body flush against her own. Mina did not try to deny him, could not, instead her eyes fluttered closed and she kissed him back, pouring all her hurt and frustration into the kiss, grabbing his shirt in fistfuls and pulling him closer.

Mina could have believed that she no longer felt anything for Edward, could have pretended that she did not think of him every day. But with his lips against her own, his breath mingling with hers, his want matching her want, she could not pretend. Everything that had ever been between them, could have been, everything she'd hoped had been, flooded through her body, and flushed her skin.

"Mina." He muttered, breathing heavily as he pulled away from her. Slowly gently he kissed her again, and she slid her hands around his neck. As her eyes slid closed, she knew that she would keep Sonyea's promise, regardless of the danger.

It Hermione a moment to realise she was no longer in the memory, and the lips that were pressed against her own, no longer moving, were, in fact, Draco Malfoys. She froze in shock, her heart beating fast in her chest. She went to slip her hands from around his neck and pull away, wondering if there was a way to behave normally around him after the ordeal.

Suddenly though she froze again, slowly, hesitantly his lips moved against her own, his head tipping slightly. Her mind that usually raced with a whole number of questions and facts, gave her absolutely nothing, apart from one screamingly obvious observation. Draco Malfoy was kissing her.


	40. Running Away

The memory faded away, Hermione's face replacing Mina's, Edwards own loud thoughts being replaced with all the loud idiotic things Draco felt for one rather loud and annoying Gryffindor. His breath faltered as he realised his lips were against hers, his fingers buried deep in her bushy hair. Her body was pressed flush against his own and his skin warmed where they touched. A shiver ran down his spine that he knew had nothing to do with the Sensieve's magic. He could hear his father cursing him in his head- something about family values and hexes- but he couldn't move. He was a Slytherin after all and he knew an opportunity when he saw one.

Keeping his eyes closed to the reality waiting outside the Sensieve's room, he imagined it was just them; just Draco, just Hermione, somewhere else. Where blood and names didn't matter, where there wasn't Gryffindor, there wasn't Slytherin, and him being completely enthralled with all she was, wasn't a bad thing. Draco tilted his head, moving his lips gently against hers focusing on the fragile thoughts.

All at once the whole lip-nibbling infuriation that had lead him to distraction, made sense. It stuttered into focus as his own breath stuttered in his lungs. Her mouth was soft and real against his own, and she tasted good. Better than good. Better than anything his woeful imagination could ever have conjured. His hand splayed across her lower back, gently tugging her closer. He was kissing Hermione Granger. He repeated it several times in his head, waiting for the reality of it to sink in. He was kissing Hermione Granger. it was utterly unbelievable, so crazy and absurd, but he found himself suppressing a smile.

His heart very nearly stopped in his chest, and his legs, which were shaking anyway, nearly buckled beneath him. The Gryffindor was kissing him back. The pressure gentle and curious, as if testing the reality of the moment. The explosion of happiness that erupted in his chest surprised even him. The thought, the small semblance of hope that she might want him back, grew exponentially and he opened his mouth against hers their breath mingling together.

Suddenly though, Hermione ripped herself away from him, yanking herself violently from his arms, her chest heaving as she sucked air into her lungs and cheeks flushed a bright red. He grit his teeth as rejection flooded into the space between them and stabbed at his chest. The hurt made him flinch away from her, arms falling by his sides.

"What...what are you doing?" she was breathless, her lips red and wonderful. She looked dishevelled, uncertain and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again; to feel her gentle curiosity and match it with all the questions he'd ever pondered about her, about himself, about the impossible possibility of them. But he stopped himself because she was gazing at him furiously, a small frown of confusion wrinkling her forehead. No matter what he had foolishly felt for her, he knew that it was utterly preposterous that she would feel the same way.

Hermione watched as the all the emotions swimming him Draco's eyes disappeared and she was looking up at the boy that had bullied her for so many years. The cold, heartless, pompous Slytherin that sneered at her and called her names, that hated her because of her blood. The change was so sudden that Hermione found herself unable to do anything but blink stupidly up at him.

"Standing, Granger, what does it look like?." Draco scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets, refusing to meet her gaze.

"You...you kissed me." Hermione struggled to say it out loud, and when she had she realised how ridiculous it sounded. But she could still feel the pressure of it on her lips, the telltale realness of it.

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger, why would I ever kiss you?" She considered his statement for a while, knowing deep down he had a point. Why would he ever want to kiss her? Still, the way he said it stung and she couldn't understand why it wasn't as if she'd wanted to kiss him.

"I...I don't," she paused, staring down at her hands then glancing back up at the blonde, "I don't know." Her finger brushed against her bottom lip, as if she could find traces of the kiss still clinging on. Draco watched the action, swallowing the lump that had developed in his throat.

"Well, as much as I love these pitiful accusations, Granger, I really must be off." It took Hermione a moment to register what he'd said, sputtering slightly as he stepped around her.

"But what...what about dinner?" she babbled, wondering why it was difficult for her to form a coherent thought.

"With muggles? You must be joking."

"But…" Hermione couldn't believe the change, couldn't believe that she was talking to the same boy that she'd spent the day with. The same boy that she'd actually enjoyed spending time with. But there was something wrong, something off in the way he spoke to her. His harsh words lacked their bite, were devoid of their sting, and Hermione found they didn't hurt her only confused her.

"Malfoy?" The blonde paused at the door, his shoulders hunched. "Just tell me what that was."

Draco almost turned around and told her, screamed in her face about how much he thought about her. How all those little things that used to drive him mad, were now the reasons he couldn't seem to stay away. He wanted to kiss her, smash his lips against hers so hard, she couldn't argue with him, couldn't question him. She would gasp and breathe his name and miraculously she'd remember that she cared about him too. He almost laughed at the absurdity.

"It was the Sensieve, Granger," He turned, pulling in all the turmoil, all the hurt and sadness and, flashing her his telltale smirk, continued "you should know by now, that I'd never knowingly kiss you. I mean come on," He leant forward and whispered, "You're a filthy little mudblood."

Tears swam in Hermione's eyes, and when the blonde turned away she made no move to stop him, only following him when the lights from the candles floating above her head began to flicker out. Numbly she made her way out of the room with the green pillars just in time to hear her bedroom door click shut. With a sigh, she sank to the floor gazing half-heartedly at the newspaper clippings adorning her wall. She couldn't understand why it upset her so much, he had called her a mudblood more times than she could care to count, he'd also upset her more times than she could count. Why she expected any different from him was beyond her.

Hermione mulled over it, her finger grazing her bottom lip again. She wasn't stupid, she knew with certainty that it wasn't the Sensieve. Edwards kiss had been sure and certain. What she had felt has been unsure, uncertain and soft, so incredibly soft. Hermione buried her head in her hands, suppressing the urge to scream. She'd kissed him back. She'd actually kissed, Draco Malfoy, sworn enemy and arse extraordinaire back and it had felt nice.

Hermione shook her head, trying desperately to dislodge some of the crazy thoughts. It made no sense, she liked Ron, the only person she wanted to kiss was Ron and yet, when Draco had started kissing her, Ron had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Hermione scowled, pushing herself to her feet. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, shaking her head and pacing angrily.

"Mione, sweetheart." Hermione sighed at the sound of her mother's voice, turning to watch her walk into her secret room. "Everything alright?"

"It's fine, Mom." She mumbled, turning to hide the tears still swimming in her eyes.

"Oh sweetheart." Her mother answered, walking in front of her and enveloping her in a warm hug. Hermione's bottom lip wobbled, but she refused to let herself cry over the arse of a Slytherin. "What happened?"

"Malfoy is a jerk, that's what happened." Hermione spat, pulling away slightly, refusing to meet her mother's' concerned gaze.

"He seemed awfully upset when he left." Hermione scoffed slightly, thinking it was just typical that the pureblood would make it all about him.

"Of course he did." She muttered sardonically, turning away from her mother and pacing the room.

"Mione, sweetie, did he say something?" Hermione paused, sighing at her mother's words. Of course, the Slytherin had said something, he always said something. Hermione shook her head slightly.

"No more than usual." She stepped out of her secret room, falling heavily onto her bed. "He just runs away all the time." Hermione contemplated telling her mother all that had happened, thinking wistfully that it would be nice to share to with someone, a weight off her shoulders. She could see her mother wanted to ask more questions but a tapping on the window interrupted their conversation.

A grin spread across Hermione's face at the sight of a small owl circling excitedly outside her bedroom window, a letter clutched in its talons.

"Pig." She breathed excitedly, opening the window and letting in the feathered rocket, watching as he zoomed about bouncing off various pieces of furniture.

"Well, she's a lively one isn't she." Hermione's mother muttered, nodding towards the tiny bird.

"He, Mom, his name's Pig." She nodded slightly, crossing her arms.

"So what does this, Pig have to say?" Hermione muttered a curse under her breath, as she realised how difficult it would be to pry the letter from the bird, what with its inability to keep even remotely still. Before Hermione could come up with a plan, and curse Ronald Weasley for holding the record for world's strangest pets, Pig settled down on her mother's shoulder, nibbling gently at her ears.

"Oh isn't he a sweetheart." Her mother cooed, gently rubbing Pig's front, while he puffed out his feathers and cooed happily.

"Hmm, yes," Hermione muttered suspiciously retrieving the letter, her eyes not leaving the strange spectacle of stationary Pig. Hermione almost squealed in delight at the letter from Ginny, inviting her to stay with the Weasley clan, as the young redhead suggested that the company was 'woefully boring', and that secret things were going on that Hermione would probably want to know about.

Hermione could have kissed Ginny, the redhead had perfect timing. Being with the Weasleys would be a welcome distraction.

"Mom can I?" She asked, pushing the letter into her mother's hands, already eyeing which books she wanted to take with her. Mrs Granger read the letter quickly, looking up at her daughter and sighing. While she loved having her little girl around for the holidays, she also knew that spending time with her magical friends was important. She just wished they didn't live so far away.

"It's fine with me, but you'll have to okay it with your Dad." She stated, placing the letter on Hermione's bed and sitting down next to it. Pig cooed again, nudging her ear.

"Okay, what with me?" Her father stepped into the doorway, a scowl etched across his forehead. "If it's about that boy, he is not coming here again. Downright rude if you ask me, walking out when your mother's prepared such a lovely dinner, and through the fire of all places" Mr Granger grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

"I'm sure he had his reasons, Richard. He did look awfully upset."

"He'll be upset about my boot up his…"

"Can I go stay with the Weasley's? Ginny asked me." Hermione interrupted, wanting to steer both the conversation and her thoughts away from a certain blonde Slytherin. She grabbed the letter and pressed it into her father's hands, smiling sweetly up at him. Her father perused the letter, the frown on his forehead growing ever deeper.

"But what about the dentist convention." Hermione tried to look disappointed about missing the convention. The truth was her parents had taken her ever since she could remember, in the desperate bid that it might spark some sort of interest, the truth was it had succeeded in doing the opposite.

"It think the convention is the last thing on Mione's mind, didn't you read? The company is woefully boring...woefully." Mrs Granger said, scratching the top of Pig's head and smirking. Hermione decided to ignore the sarcasm lacing her mother's voice. Mrs Granger had known for some time that the Dentist Convention was, about as enjoyable as pulling teeth for her daughter, and she found it rather amusing.

"Well, I suppose you can go." Mr Granger sighed, folding up the letter and looking at his daughter pointedly. "But you write every day.."

"Not everyday dear, try to have fun." Mrs Granger cut in, smirking slightly as her husband bristled.

"Every other day then." He stated, pointing his finger at Hermione. She nodded enthusiastically, doing her best to suppress a grin.

"Write when you can." Mrs Granger added, standing up and kissing her daughter's head. "Talk to Ginny, hmm." She smoothed down Hermione's hair, placing Pig on her shoulder. "You'll feel better."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and nodded. She had no intention of telling anyone, anything. Not about the Sensieve, not about her and Malfoy's secret meetings and most definitely, without any shadow of a doubt, she had no intention of ever relaying the fact that they had kissed. The memory alone was enough to send her heart stuttering in her chest, and she suppressed the overwhelming urge to let her face fall into the palm of her hand.

"Talk to Ginny about what?" Mr Granger asked, as both her parents walked out the door.

"Nothing, girl stuff." Mrs Granger answered, waving a hand in the air and rubbing his back. Hermione's bedroom door close with a soft click.

"What girl stuff?" Came Mr Granger's muffled reply, Hermione couldn't hear the rest as they made their way downstairs.

With a sigh, Hermione placed Pig on her dressing table and began to pack. Every time her thoughts strayed towards Malfoy she would shake her head, concentrating on the list of items she needed to take with her. It was not an easy task, and packing took much longer it usually did. Eventually, though, everything was ready, and in her hand, she held the scroll that Malfoy had given her on the train.

She passed the parchment gently between her fingers, wondering what the blonde was doing at that precise moment. She was certain he wouldn't try to contact her again, not after the way he'd reacted and she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. Granted he was an arse, a changeable arse, that kept her guessing and was impossible to understand. But he was also nice, in his own pompous, self-assured way, nice and funny and not at all what she'd expected.

After much deliberation, Hermione tucked the scroll into the front pocket of her bag, shaking her head at her own stupidity, but leaving it there regardless. He wouldn't contact. But if he did she wanted answers.


	41. Desperate Plans

The faint sound of footsteps echoed off the stone walls and Narcissa could just make out the hushed adoration of the house elves as they muttered their offering of praise to their owners. She tapped her long finger against the arm of the plush leather chair and sighed heavily, her black shift slipping down her arm as her shoulders lifted and dropped. She stared at the fireplace accusingly, her forehead wrinkling as the voice of the rather jovial sundial (she'd brought on some argumentative whim) filtered in through the open window and informed her just how long her son had been.

The Daily Prophet was balanced across her knees. She glanced at it and fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. The plethora of drivel that had managed to make it into print was utterly confounding.

 _If only they knew_ she thought, shaking her head and resting her elbow on the arm of the chair. Her hand gently covered her mouth, holding in all the anger and frustration, just as she always had.

She was worried. More than that she was petrified.

Her husband had never been a brave man, she knew that as soon as her mother had thrown her into his waiting arms. Desperate to please his father and completely unable to do so, he had accepted their marriage without question, without anger, and more to the point without even meeting her. He shook and smiled on their wedding day and she had wondered if he knew at all, knew that they were binding their lives away.

There could have been other women, she'd always thought so, but there never was. Whether out of loyalty or as she suspected, a fear of his father's retribution, Lucius Malfoy had never even so much as glanced at another woman. His cowardly fidelity made her love him just a bit and a little bit more over the years. Now though, she faltered.

Once again her husband shook, once again he turned that pallid don't-hurt-me pale, once again he was the boy at the altar, giving his life to something he didn't fully understand. And she despised him somewhat for it.

The Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord. He went on and on about him in the early years. About the ideas, the genius, the purity promised and the power. Purity, it all seemed so important back then. The be all, the end all, the only thing in their magical lives to make sense. But then Draco had been born and she found she no longer cared.

The sound of the flames flaring in the large fireplace tugged her out of her thoughts. She glanced up in time to see her son step into the room, green embers glowing before snuffing out in a puff of smoke. Draco stormed past, tears painting his cheeks.

"Draco?" He carried on walking as if he hadn't heard her. "Draco, what's wrong?" She lifted her skirts and pushed herself out of her chair, following her son.

"Nothing." He replied sharply. He turned into his room and closed the door with a loud slam. She could hear crashing and shouting from the other side of the door. She lifted her hand, about to knock, but stopped. Draco wasn't the most open of boys as it was, preferring the confines of his own room and keeping most of his thoughts and feelings private. She doubted that he would tolerate her questioning him at that precise moment, so she turned on her heel and made her way back to the front room.

She paced the length of the room, shaking her head. As distant as Draco had always been, something was a little off. Her son was not big on displays of emotion, something he'd picked up from his father. To see Draco crying was a rare occurrence, one that made her incredibly worried.

She turned and paused, her husband and Severus walking into view, the dark-haired wizard nodding as her husband spoke quietly to him. The pair of them had been in a meeting that had lasted a good proportion of the day, making plans for their next steps to better serve their Lord. Ever since his shocking return, the Dark Lord himself had been strangely quiet, biding his time for something she couldn't see or understand. Lucius told her to trust, but she could see the nervous bob of his Adam's apple, and it told her all she needed to know; he was just as worried about the Dark Lord's silence as she was.

As she stepped closer she could make out the dark shadows beneath her husband's eyes, the slump of his shoulders. Though he feigned enthusiasm, her husband was so very tired.

"Severus," Narcissa interrupted, rushing forward, "might I have a word?" she asked, ignoring her husband's questioning glance. She hurried past the pair, fully expecting Severus to follow. Lucius' eyes widened at his wife's behaviour. Severus gave him a pointed look before turning to follow the witch.

Narcissa stepped into a small quiet study. Draco and his friends spent time in there, thinking they were being sly. She knew they sampled his father's firewhiskey, but she'd chosen to keep that little nugget of information to herself.

Severus closed the door looking at her down the length of his nose, his expression schooled and guarded. "And what, may I ask, is the meaning of the this?" Severus drooled, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Draco," Narcissa said simply, pursing her lips and looking out the window.

"The boy?" Severus' eyes widened.

"Yes," Narcissa turned and looked at him, resting her back against the windowsill. "My son, I want you to tutor him."

"I hardly think the boy is failing at school, in fact quite the opposite."

"This is not about school work, this is about him knowing what he is doing." Narcissa, walked across the room, stopping at a large bookshelf that covered one length of the wall. Severus' eyes darkened slightly as he watched her.

"The boy cannot perform magic outside of school, you know this." Narcissa laughed bitterly, glancing fleetingly at the wizard before turning back to the books.

"My husband is not the only one with contacts, Severus, consider the act of performing magic outside of school no longer an issue." Severus nodded once, allowing the information to sink in. He had not known for it to be possible, for such a ban to be lifted, then again, he wasn't aware that anyone had ever tried.

Narcissa chewed her bottom lip furiously, she knew her next words had to be chosen carefully.

"With the Dark Lord returned, Draco will be...Draco will be at risk.' She spun around quickly, taking a deep breath. "I want you to make sure he is prepared... for anything."

"It is impossible to ensure he is _that_ prepared," Severus said with a smirk, looking at her pointedly as he enunciated each word slowly.

"Well, the important things then; shielding spells, hexes, charms. Anything you think is important." Severus nodded once, his face. "And one more thing."

"And what might that be?" He drawled.

"Occlumency." Severus' eyes widened slightly, looking the most shocked Narcissa had ever seen.

"Occlumency?" He muttered, "what secret could the boy possibly be hiding that would interest anyone?"

"I don't.." she paused, looking down at the patterned carpet she'd insisted she'd liked not so long ago. She sighed and met Severus' level gaze. "I have my suspicions, he's been distant of late, more secretive," Snape smirked slightly.

"He is a teenage boy, is he not?" Narcissa gave the dark-haired wizard a withering glance.

"I know my son, Severus, and something is...something is amiss."

"And you would like me to find out what exactly that is?" Narcissa's eyes widened.

"No, no, Merlin no. Just please,' she stepped forward imploring him, "please teach him all he needs to know. He needs to be safe. I will not have….I would not have my son controlled against his will, his darkest secrets laid bare. I am his mother after all"

"There may be secrets that the Dark Lord himself would be interested in. To keep such information..private, would be in direct defiance of his lordship." Narcissa stiffened slightly, before raising her chin in defiance. She would not be scared, this was for her son, and nothing could stop her from seeing it through to the end.

"Then so be it."

Severus was silent for a while as if mulling the proposition over. Narcissa had no idea whether he would agree or not, certain that disobeying the Dark Lord wasn't something Severus would easily partake in.

"Very well, I will train the boy. He should be ready tomorrow evening." He quickly turned, black robes fluttering slightly behind him.

Narcissa felt her knees threaten to buckle beneath her with relief, so she lowered herself into a chair.

"And what was that in aid of." Lucius asked curiously, slipping into the room quietly.

"That was in aid of our son. If you insist on putting him in danger then I insist on making sure he can protect himself." Lucius drew back at his wife's sharp tone, eyes narrowing slightly.

"The Dark Lord is not a threat, he will once again restore order to this chaos. Achieve everything we have ever dreamed of."

"You dreamed of." Narcissa spat, standing and turning away from her husband. She shivered as she felt his cold gaze upon her.

"You dreamed of it once." His voice was closer, hands holding the tops of her arms in what seemed like a comforting gesture, but his fingertips pressed to harshly into her skin to be anything but a warning.

"We have other responsibilities now, to our son, to his safety." Narcissa turned, searching the cold blue eyes of her husband, for any sign of understanding.

"The Dark Lord will keep him safe." Narcissa ripped herself away from him.

"You cannot believe that." She pursed her lips in anger when he said nothing. "You think that he has just forgiven you for your disloyalty to him. You denied him, Lucius, denied everything you believed in. You think he will welcome you with open arms?"

"DO NOT SPEAK…' Lucius paused taking a deep breath, 'do not speak of what you don't understand. The Dark Lord will be merciful." Narcissa wasn't fooled, she could hear the shake in his voice every time he spoke of the Dark Lord, the way his eyes flitted around the room in fear as if Voldemort himself were listening in on the conversation.

"I am going to check on our son." she walked away, her skirts bunched in her hands.

"He will make things right Cissy." Narcissa paused at the weary sound of her husband's voice. Slowly she turned towards him, her anger softening as she saw how tired he looked, how utterly fearful he was of history repeating itself.

"Who are you trying to convince?" Her question made his shoulders slump.

"We have to do this, we have to obe..." He covered his mouth and Narcissa rushed forward to comfort him.

Her fingers threaded through his golden hair as he laid his head on her shoulder.

"He will kill us if we don't obey." He mumbled, his breath sending goosebumps along her skin as his warm breath ghosted her neck "Someone has to make this world right." Slowly Lucius lifted his head, all the worry, doubt and fear falling behind his cool mask of indifference. "Someone has to make it right." He repeated with a nod, leaving her in the study, her hand on her chest feeling the race of her heart.

The small dragon figurine smashed against the wall, the pieces glistening as they showered the floor. The tiny unicorn that had been peering into the pages of a large tome, whinnied in fright clopping for cover as fast as its little legs would carry it.

"AHHHHHH," Draco screamed, running his fingers through his blonde hair, grasping at pieces and tugging on them pitifully. "Stupid, stupid…" His head fell back against the door, letting out shaking breaths as he thought of her. He winced as his brain once again took him tumbling into the memory; her lips, the softness, the realness of it all. Then it smacked him around the face with her rejection. With a sob, he slid down the oak door. He hadn't expected her rejection to hurt that much, he was a pureblood after all he should have denied her.

"Stupid." He glanced up, noticing the shaking backside of the small unicorn Hermione had given him, sighing he climbed to his feet wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Hey...hey, it's okay." He muttered, pulling the creature from its hiding place, allowing a small smile to ghost his lips as it burrowed into his hand, its body still shaking.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with me?" He asked it, bringing his hands closer to his face. The unicorn slowly extricated itself and looked up at Draco, snorting moodily.

He knew what was wrong with him, he'd known for a long time he just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself or to anyone. The tiniest part of him had hoped that kissing Granger would get it all out of his system. One atrocious kiss later and she would be little Miss Know-it-all and he would be throwing insults at her bushy hair, and his infatuation could be a little hiccup buried in the past. But by Salazar, it hadn't happened that way, not even close.

He placed the unicorn back on his desk, and slumped into his seat. He needed help, serious help. He groaned as he realised what he had to do. Reluctantly he took some parchment from the pile next to him. His hands shook as he took his quill and dipped it gently in the ink pot. The small unicorn whinnied and galloped towards it, shoving its little head into the pot with delight. Draco started the letter, cringing as he spelled out Pansy's name at the top of the paper.

 _Get your witchy butt here as soon as possible._

He stared at the short letter for some time wondering whether it was a good idea to get Pansy involved. She was the only one out of his friends who wouldn't simply laugh in his face and tell him that feelings were for Hufflepuffs. Well, she would do all of those things, but then she would most definitely have a plan, have something up her sleeve to help him forget the stuck-up Gryffindor and move on with his life.

"Draco." He froze as he heard his mother's voice coming from the other side of the door.

"Go away." He ground out, the last person he wanted to talk to was his mother.

"Draco, I need to speak with you." With a huff, he lifted himself out of his chair and moved to open the door for his mother. She stared at him for some time without speaking, noting the tear tracks down her sons' cheeks.

"We need to talk." Draco rolled his eyes but stepped to the side so his mother could enter his room. He lay back on his bed, his arms across his eyes. His mother relayed the news of his father, of the Dark Lord, of his lessons with Snape, and a stone settled in his gut. It sickened him and made him want to scream again.

He kept quiet, not answering his mother when she asked him if he was okay, not really hearing her as she left the room. All he could hear was Granger's voice asking him what the kiss meant, asking him what it was all about. He almost wished he was back in that room, none the wiser to the approaching danger; just a boy liking a girl he really shouldn't and melting into a mess of hopelessness when she didn't like him back. He thought maybe he could cope with all of that, at least he could pretend to cope with it.

He stood slowly, gently calling a house elf. The creature winked into existence and he placed the letter in its small hands.

"Make sure this gets sent right away." The house elf nodded and muttered it's affirmations and adorations but Draco ignored it. He hoped that whatever plan Pansy came up with it would work because he needed it to, desperately.


	42. ARMA

Hermione had been somewhat disappointed when Arthur was the only member of the Weasley clan stood at her door. He'd assured her that the others had wanted to come but Molly had insisted they stay and pack.

"Pack?" Hermione had asked, heaving her suitcase over the threshold. Arthur Weasley took it from her, nodding seriously and tapping the side of his nose. Hermione had bit back all her questions, that had quickly been forgotten when they stopped outside the Tall Man Inn. She found it difficult to form a coherent sentence as Mr Weasley, with a lopsided grin, turned to her and described the small brick building as their (as he put it) means of transport.

The Tall Man Inn had been the only pub near her home for as long as Hermione could remember. It was a small, cramped little place; so much so that the landlord, who was himself a particularly tall man, was forced into a constant stoop. It was a regular haunt for all the locals and its quaintness was a talking point for the handful of tourists that passed through. Hermione had to admit that it did have an old worldly feel to it, but she had always found the pub quite scary.

Hermione glanced up at the large wooden sign its paint glinting in the sun, the image of a large gangly man sneering down at her from beneath thick black letters. Hermione shivered slightly.

"Here?" She asked somewhat incredulously as Mr Weasley stopped outside the green door, grinning up at the sign. He sported a long grey coat with chequered trousers and a woollen trilby that sat awkwardly on his head. When he'd asked Hermione how he'd fared dressing like a muggle, she hadn't the heart to tell him he'd failed rather spectacularly.

"Yes, Old Billabus is an old friend of mine, went to school together."Hermione simply blinked at the red-headed man, her eyes owlish as she tried to process the new information.

"Billabus? You mean Mr Gregory?"

"The one and only." Mr Weasley stated with a nod.

"Mr Gregory went to Hogwarts?" Hermione spluttered.

"Oh yes, a regular genius he was, which is extraordinary considering his heritage. Used to call him tiny" Arthur muttered to himself, his lips turning up in a small, whimsical smile.

"Tiny?" Hermione gasped in disbelief, biting back her questions as Mr Weasley pushed the door open and stepped into the gloom.

Pipe smoke hung thick and heavy in the air, the smell of it making Hermione's head feel fuzzy. The windows were stained glass depicting the antics of one particular drunken man, as he stumbled from one pane to the next. The sun glimmered through the scenes and reflected the colours on the walls and floor. The sight was, in its own way, truly magical.

Hermione glanced around noticing the hunched men hiding in the shadows, their hands curled around glasses filled with amber liquid, the embers of their pipe momentarily lighting up their faces before they disappeared behind the expelled smoke.

"Gregory you old crone." The man stooped behind the bar was exactly how Hermione remembered him; long and scraggly hair that was the colour of mud, his eyes beady and black with a large bulbous nose. His mouth, however, which Hermione remembered drooping down at the corners, was pulled up into a large grin.

"Ho, if it isn't Arty." Mr Gregory's voice was booming, making many of the hunched figures glance up from their gloomy corners. "What brings you to this neck of the woods. No bad business I hope." He leant forward conspiratorially as he said this and Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his suspicious glare.

"Oh no, nothing of the sort. This is Hermione Granger, a friend of the family." Mr Gregory nodded towards Hermione once, and she smiled up at him nervously.

Arthur leant over the bar towards his friend, his hand covering his mouth as he whispered. Hermione desperately tried to listen but sighed in resignation when she couldn't make out anything. Mr Gregory nodded several times at Arthur's words before stepping away from the counter and disappearing into the back room. After a few moments he reappeared, a set of large iron keys attached to a ring in one hand, moving amongst the keys was a small crystal ball, the middle of it glowing purple. The keys were moved out of Hermione's view before she could inspect the strange object more, as Mr Gregory gestured for them to follow.

He lead them down a small dusty corridor that had the man almost bent in half at the sheer lowness of the ceiling. Hermione glanced around, taking in the pictures hanging on the wall, not quite sitting straight. The pictures were of various patrons that had visited the establishment over the years, their eyes sparkling with the moment. She noticed with interest that some of them seemed to be dressed rather strangely, Mr Weasley strangely.

Mr Gregory stooped down to a rather unimpressive looking wooden door with a small brass handle. Slowly he fingered through the loop of keys till he picked out one and held it right up to his face so that the metal almost touched his bulbous snout. Nodding slightly to himself he pushed the key into the lock and turned it three times.

Hermione tried to see what was beyond the door but could make out only darkness and Mr Gregory's hunched back.

"What's happening," she whispered to Arthur, the Weasley turned and smiled, gesturing for her to be quiet with a finger to his lips. Hermione crossed her arms, huffing slightly. Her annoyance was soon forgotten when she heard the large man mutter something under his breath, and a small globe of white light flickered into existence next to his shoulder. Hermione jumped as she felt the Sensieve's magic shift around her, the feel of it brushing against her skin and ever so slightly nudging her towards the door.

The globe of light disappeared into the darkness, chasing away the shadows, and leaving torches, that were fixed to the wall, aflame in its wake.

"Ah, you're in luck." He said, glancing back at Arthur whose face lit up with excitement.

"Really?" He said, bustling forward to look down the stairs.

"Yes, but we better hurry." With that, he stopped low and made his way down the stairs. Arthur took his wand out his pocket and flicked his wrist. Hermione's bag lifted from the floor and floated behind the strangely dressed wizard. He shot Hermione a look of barely contained excitement over his shoulder before disappearing down the steps.

Torches flamed at regular intervals lighting the way down towards another door. Hermione took a deep breath as she placed her foot on the first step, the air musty as it filled her lungs. The staircase was large, great stone slabs covered with thick layers of dust. She knelt down, running her hand along the stone and removing some of the dust, gasping slightly when the torchlight revealed that the steps were black, almost obsidian in colour and they shone in the flame. Her finger traced the faint pattern that seemed to have been carved into all of them, but whatever design had been there before had been worn away by years upon years of footfall. Hermione rose to her feet, hesitating a moment before following to two wizards.

When they stopped at the second door Hermione could hardly believe her eyes. It was made from the same black stones beneath her feet, but its carving remained intact, running deep into the stone. Mr Gregory leant close to the door and muttered something under his breath. Once again a small light flickered into existence, flying towards the carving.

"This is a..." Mr Gregory started gesturing to the door as the light flew into the carving and spread like water through the ridges.

"Memoria Luxareo." Hermione breathed, and both men turned to her, their eyes widening slightly.

"How do you know about the Memoria Luxareo?" Mr Gregory asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"She's a smart one is Hermione, no doubt read it in a book somewhere." Hermione opened her mouth to explain that she had seen one before but stopped herself. As much as Draco had hurt her she still did not want to share their find with anyone else.

"Yes I...I read it in a book. I thought that they opened with strong emotions?" She asked, her brows furrowing as she inspected the door. The carvings were intricate, as intricate as the ones that Draco and she had found. These however depicted a room full of wizards, their wands broken in their hands, magic seeping from them into a large room.

"Ah yes, some have, or should I say, some did. This, however, is a little bit different." Hermione looked up at the tall man.

"How?"

"Now that would be telling wouldn't it." He said with a chuckle, his keys jangling by his side.

"What does this mean?" Said Arthur Weasley pointing to the carvings. Mr Gregory's' brow furrowed and he scratched his head.

"No one is sure really, some of the high ups, you know more robes than sense, they came and had a look, couldn't make head nor tail of it. If you ask me it looks like A.R.M.A being made."

"What?" Hermione asked, unable to contain her surprise. She had read about A.R.M.A. The Ancient Records of Magical Actions was somewhat of a talking point among the wizarding community, with many drawing the conclusion that it was simply a myth thought up by a few drunken wizards, looking to cause a little unrest. From what Hermione had read A.R.M.A did lend itself to myths and legends, as it was said that the records never stayed in one place for too long and to man such a room would be near impossible.

"The Ancient Records of Magical Actions." Mr Gregory clarified as he pushed the stone door open with a grin.

"The records are real?." she found herself muttering. Mr Gregory chuckled stepping through the doorway and to the side opening his arms wide.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Hermione glanced at Arthur who nodded in encouragement. She stepped through the doorway slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she took in her surroundings. A huge room stretched out below her with great stone pillars. Hermione looked up, her mouth dropping open at the ceiling high above her, where paintings of witches and wizards eyed her suspiciously as they sorted through papers. Great oak shelves lined the walls, every available gap filled with various scrolls of different sizes. Hermione watched with fascination as golden quills flew through the air in front of her, whizzing towards scrolls that magically removed themselves from shelves and opened up.

She made her way down the stairs in a daze, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to take in everything at once. She gasped again when her foot hit the floor of the room, and a mosaic fish swam past, a mermaid chasing it, it's hair the colour of seaweed.

"But...how is this? This is…" Hermione stuttered, twirling around. A small blank scroll flitted through the air past her face, stopping near a shelf.

"Ah, that will be a new one." Said Mr Gregory, glancing up from his conversation with Arthur Weasley to watch a golden quill zip across the room and scrawl something across the page in silver ink. Hermione rushed forward to read the paper. _Susan Archille - turned sister's hair blue - 46 Aiden Drive, Scotland._

"Anyone anywhere uses magic and this place knows about it. Of course, we only get notified when it's a problem, new magic users, the improper use of underage magic, magic in the presence of muggles..." Mr Gregory reeled off the list sounding a little bored.

"But how...But how does it work?" Arthur asked before Hermione had a chance to.

"Hah, that's what I'd like to know. Would you believe it, a world full of the most intelligent and powerful witches and wizards and not one of them know how this place works." He glanced around before turning back to Hermione, his eyes glinting. "It's old magic."

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest at the mention of old magic. Of course, it was old magic, she couldn't understand why she hadn't felt it before. There was a gentle hum in the air, something close to what she felt when the Sensieve's magic moved and shifted around her. It made her think of all the memories, of Mina and Edward, and it made her think of Draco.

Hermione grit her teeth not wanting to think about the Slytherin, though he seemed to have a habit of creeping into her thoughts when she least expected it. She was determined not to let him ruin this moment. She turned and realised that Arthur and Mr Gregory were heading towards the other side of the room. Quickly she moved to catch up with them, trying not to get distracted by the scrolls and quills flying through the air.

"No one knows when this was created, do they?" Arthur said with wonder, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. It was strange to see the Weasley get so excited about something magical, usually, he was buzzing about some new muggle device, taking it apart and trying desperately to put it back together. She could understand his disbelief, even by magical standards A.R.M.A was impressive, more than impressive.

Mr Gregory shook his head slowly, smiling slightly to himself "One wizard guessed around the 15th Century or thereabouts, something about the pattern carved onto the steps. But even he couldn't be sure, bit too fond of the old firewhiskey" Hermione's steps faltered when she heard the estimated date, her breath catching in the back of her throat. Her fingers itched to write to the stupid stuck up ferret about everything.

"Why can't they be sure?" She asked, falling into step with the tall man. He glanced down at her rubbing his chin.

"This place is ageless, old magic will do that." He stopped at a large ornate desk, scrolls of different sizes floating up around his head, each of fixed shut with a wax seal. "Old magic is incredibly powerful, luckily for us everything we know about it is...well it's gone. Wouldn't want anything as powerful as this place falling into the wrong hands." He said looking at Arthur pointedly.

Hermione hadn't thought about the dangers of using Old Magic, she knew that it was powerful, she'd seen that when Draco had been practising spells. Now, though, she panicked. You-know-who was back, his followers coming out of the woodwork and she had helped the son of one of them learn how to use Old Magic. She couldn't believe that she had been so stupid.

Mr Gregory strode towards another stone door, the entirety of it covered with carvings of scrolls. He muttered and the door lit up. Hermione was starting to doubt the rarity of the Memoria Luxareo's as she'd seen two within the space of five minutes. She struggled to wrap her head around the fact that this place existed and most of the wizarding world had no clue about it, not even an inkling.

Mr Gregory pulled the door open revealing a small room, the walls made entirely of precious stones, the inside of them glowing faintly with white light.

"This is...it's..it's.." Hermione turned around slowly open-mouthed.

"Pretty impressive isn't it." Said Mr Gregory appreciatively, glancing around the room. "No matter how many times I come here it still...wow." Arthur nodded with him. After a moment of silence, the scrolls fell to the floor and Mr Gregory turned to Arthur. "Well this is your ride, just think of where you need to go and this will take you there."

With a nod Arthur stepped into the room, Hermione's suitcase floating behind him and settling at his feet. He rubbed his hands together grinning gleefully.

"I've always wanted to do this." Hermione smiled at him. 'Now close your eyes and think of home...well my home."

Hermione closed her eyes and thought of the burrow, she thought of the Weasleys all sat in the kitchen among the general chaos of their home. She thought of Ron, his bright red hair, freckles dusting his nose. Her heart raced as it did every time she thought of her friend.

Someone gasped in front of her and Hermione's eyes fluttered open. Ron was stood in front of her a doughnut frozen by his lips, eyes wide in surprise.

"Mione." He mumbled, and Hermione smiled because for once her mind wasn't full of thoughts a blonde Slytherin, she was just thinking about Ron.


	43. Better Than Nothing

Draco had an overwhelming feeling that his summer holidays were going to be atrocious. The thought settled like a heavyweight in his belly and made him feel a little bit sick. Pansy was sat on the windowsill, one leg propped up, the other swinging back and forth like a pendulum. He watched it for some time before swallowing heavily and taking another swig of his father's Ludens Promise that Pansy had insisted they sample. Ludens Promise was not as nice as most alcoholic beverages, but Luden (the rather pickled wizard that had made it) promised that the liquid, while not the best tasting, would get you drunk the fastest. It was one of the only promises the wizard ever actually kept.

Pansy's eyes were closed as she soaked in the rays of sunshine filtering in through the large ornate window, the butterflies on her dress slitting about lazily from flower to flower.

"So what's this all about?" She asked lazily, gesturing towards him with her own glass of clear liquid, taking a delicate sip before letting her head fall back against the wall, eyes drifting shut.

Draco placed his glass on the polished wooden table in front of him, falling heavily into a plush leather chair, his fingers beating out an erratic rhythm on its arm. His teeth ground together with how much he did not want to have the conversation, with how much he wanted all the words he was going to say to stay burning in the back of his throat. He reached out for his glass, knocking back the contents in one swift movement. The action made him cough and splutter, his insides on fire as Luden's promise of destruction melted its way through his insides.

Pansy cracked one eye open slightly, watching the young Slytherin struggle to breathe but decided on saying absolutely nothing. Draco was not one for opening up and talking about feelings, so she imagined that they would be quite a way down the bottle before he decided to give anything up.

"I..' He started, clearing his throat when all he was able to manage was a hoarse whisper, "I...er." He scratched his chin. "I have a...a problem." Pansy's eyes opened wide at the sound of the great Draco Malfoy stuttering.

"Are you .stuttering?" She asked, sitting up and turning to face him, an evil grin spreading across her face, her pale legs swinging gleefully back and forth.

"Malfoy's don't stutter." He answered through gritted teeth.

"Well, I've always believed that but evidence to the contrary and all that," she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly and gesturing to Draco.

"I knew this was a bad idea." He let out an exasperated breath, heaving himself from his chair, "I should have asked Theo or Blaise." It was a complete and utter lie, but the look of sheer horror on Pansy's face made it all worth it.

"Blaise and Theo? Are you kidding me? That pair wouldn't know common sense if it bit them on the proverbial."

"And you would?" Draco bit back.

"Well you tell me, you're the one that sent me a letter practically commanding me to come here right away." Draco turned away, she was right of course but he wasn't going to tell her that, she would be insufferable. "Now, come and talk to Aunty Pansy." She cooed, her patronising tone going straight through him.

"Please don't refer to yourself like that." Draco's nose wrinkled in disgust.

Pansy grinned over the top of her glass as she took another sip. "Why, does it make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No, it makes you sound middle-aged." Pansy scoffed, shivering at the thought.

"That disgusting thought aside," she mumbled, fingering the pretty patterns carved into the surface of her glass, "You have a problem."

Draco nodded, "I have a problem."

"Yes?"

"A big, big problem." He poured himself another drink. "A problem the size and scale of Crabbe and Goyle given free reign with sharp objects. Possibly worse. In fact, almost definitely worse." Pansy sucked in a breath.

"Wow, that's a big problem."

"Yup, a big problem."

"Okay, so we've ascertained that you have a big problem, emphasis on the big, would you mind explaining what exactly this…'

"Granger." Draco interrupted. He thought that saying her name would have the same impact as being shot across the room by a stunning hex, however, it just made Pansy blink owlishly at him, her face then contorting into a look of pure confusion that made her nose look more upturned than normal.

" Granger," Pansy said slowly, jumping off the windowsill, swaying a little as her head spun. "Look, Draco, you know we all despise Granger, I mean who wouldn't? But seriously what could that bushy-haired cretin have done to bug you in your own home. Besides, of course, existing." Draco had to stop himself from jumping to Granger's defence, he chewed the inside of his cheek waiting for the annoyance to subside.

"That's..argh..that's the problem." He bit out, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt.

"Her general existence? I hate to break it to you Draco, murder is illegal," she muttered, placing a hand on his arm. Draco looked at her angrily and she flinched away.

"No, I mean.. I mean, hating her, that's just it." He sighed lowering his head in shame.

"What?" Pansy's brow furrowed in confusion. She wasn't used to Draco being cryptic, sure he was closed off and arrogant and unwilling to talk about feelings, but usually when he spoke he was direct and well, just brutal.

'I don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Merlin Parkinson let me finish." Pansy held her hands up and took a step back.

"You take your time, we've got all day." Her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Argh for...I don't exactly hate her." Pansy's mouth opened and closed several times. She crossed her arms and looked Draco up and down.

"You don't hate Granger?" She asked slowly. Draco shook his head running his finger along the rim of his glass.

"No..no I don't, in fact, I'd," he took a deep breath, "I'd go as far as to say the opposite."

Pansy was quiet for some time before a humourless smile stretched across her face and she began clapping her hands slowly. "Oh haha, very funny guys." she looked around the room, inspecting the corners for Draco's two idiot friends. "Come out guys, you've had your laugh."

"Pansy…" Draco stepped forward.

"I mean you of all people, liking Granger, that's utterly ridiculous."

"Pansy.."

"Impossible." Draco sighed, realising it was going to take quite some time to drum home how utterly serious he actually was. He grabbed her shoulders making the witch look up at him, her brown eyes wide.

"Look, Pansy, you were right, about all of it."

"I was right about…"

"All of it yes. About me being quiet, withdrawn, defensive all because of a.." Draco let go of her shoulders unable to finish the sentence, the pathetic dregs of pride he still clung to wouldn't allow it.

"A girl," Pansy muttered falling back against the wall bewildered. "Granger is the girl? Hermione bucktooth Granger." she shook her head, "this can't be real." Draco cleared his throat.

"Yes well, it is."

"But how?" Draco rubbed his forehead wondering the exact same thing. How in Merlin's name had any of it happened?

"It's a long story." He muttered, burying his head in his hands.

"Well, we've got time, the whole holidays worth in fact so get explaining." Draco sighed, sitting down once again and slumping back into the chair.

"I can't tell you." Pansy looked at him incredulously, her foot tapping on the wooden floor. Draco watched it for a moment, the action reminding him of one particularly annoying Gryffindor.

"I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong, but did you just say you can't tell me after I don't know dragging me here asking for my help." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Look its...it's complicated." Draco buried his head in his hands wondering if the whole conversation was just a bad dream, perhaps he would wake up in a cold sweat, the tiny unicorn looking at him like he was crazy.

"Well yes it is a tad, isn't it. I mean you," Pansy struggled over the words, "you like the mudblo…"

"Don't call her that." He spat, covering his mouth when he realised, with horror, what he had actually said and who he had said it to. Pansy eyed him suspiciously as he ran his fingers through his hair. She wondered if they had somehow strayed into an alternate dimension where dragons breathed bubbles and Malfoy's liked mudbloods "Let's just say that for certain reasons she and I have been spending a lot of time together."

"And these certain reasons are?"

"I can't tell you." Pansy huffed angrily.

"So, all in all, I have nothing to work with?"

"The important thing is that I...that I do feel this way and I need you to, I don't know, make it stop."

Pansy laughed at him bitterly, "Well I don't know how you expect me to do that, I thought that you didn't do feelings." Draco glared at her, pushing himself out the chair and towards the bottle of Luden's Promise. He poured himself a small measure and gulped it down in one, coughing as it burnt his throat again.

"Look Pans I need….Merlin this can't be happening." Pansy softened slightly, her head tipping to the side. She reached out tentatively rubbing his back gently. It was by all accounts unnerving to see the blonde pureblood so riled, but he was, after all, her friend and his reaction meant that he was serious, the whole situation was serious.

"Look on the bright side, this is just...a little crush, everyone gets them," Pansy shrugged, "we can nip it in the bud before anything happens." Draco lowered his head before turning to her, guilt dull in his eyes.

"What?" she asked, searching his eyes for an answer. Draco groaned slightly and muttered something under his breath.

"What?"

"I kissed her." Pansy's mouth dropped open.

"YOU WHAT? ARE YOU CRAZY?" She screeched making Draco wince. "You kissed the know-it-all?"

"Merlin Pansy, scream it a bit louder, I don't think you-know-who heard." The mention of the Dark Lord had Pansy sobering, her next words just above a whisper.

"But the know-it-all." Draco nodded wearily.

"I know, you don't think I've gone over this?" Pansy's mouth opened and closed as she sat down in the chair slowly shaking her head in disbelief.

"This has got to be a joke."

"Yeah well, it's not," Draco said again, pouring himself some more Luden's Promise, deciding to sip at it slowly.

"How do you end up kissing someone you're supposed to hate?" Draco shook his head and turned to Pansy. He wanted to tell someone about everything, to get the infernal weight off his shoulders. He couldn't do it though, even as his mouth formed the words he was already stopping himself.

"I don't..it's just, it just happened…"

"What was it like?" The question made Draco pause; he tried not to think about what it was like because it would only lead to thoughts of how much, in spite of everything that had happened, he desperately wanted to do it again.

"I...er it was..' Draco cleared his throat scratching the back of his head, unable to meet Pansy's glare.

"Merlin, you liked it didn't you?" Draco winced but didn't answer, instead, he glared at the clear liquid in his glass, wishing the ground would swallow him whole or the Dark Lord would Avada him and save him a whole lot of pain and agony. "By Salazar, you did! I can't belie...You, you of all people actually enjoyed kissing Granger."

"Your ability to state the obvious is commendable but not really helping me right now." Draco snapped, making Pansy jump slightly.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, it's just this is you and...and Granger."

"I feel like we are circling the same patch of crap Pans, maybe we could move on."

"Right, right." She nodded staring at the carpet. Both were silent for a while, then she looked back up at him.

"But Granger.."

"For Merlin's sake, yes Granger, the stupid infuriating know-it-all. I...I...Salazar Pans just hex me now and make my life easier."

"It's not that bad." She muttered, not entirely believing what she was saying.

"Not that bad, Pans the..' he rubbed his hand over his face uncertain whether telling her was a good idea, " Pans, you-know-who is...he's back." The horror of the situation hit Pansy like a ton of bricks, she waved her arm signalling that Draco should pass her drink. He did, watching quietly as she knocked back the remaining liquid and pulled a face.

"Oh, that is disgusting." She held her glass out for Draco to fill it up again and he obliged, smirking slightly. "You're sure about all of this, I mean the ministry is pretty vehement against the whole you-know-who being back."

"No Pas, I made all this up for shits and giggles, got far too much time on my hands." Pansy took a sip of her drink, snorting.

"You know sarcasm will get you nowhere." He nodded but said nothing, walking towards the windowsill where Pansy had previously sat, leaning against it. "Well this makes things a little bit tricky," she muttered to herself.

"Tell me about it," Draco replied.

"But not completely messed up," Pansy said slowly, standing up with determination when Draco gave her an incredulous look. "No, it's not, we can sort this out. All you need is a...is a distraction…" His brow furrowed but he stayed silent allowing the young witch to continue.

"Someone to replace the bushy-haired thoughts in your brain." Draco raised an eyebrow, realisation dawning slowly.

"Not Greengrass." He said with a groan.

"What other choice do you have?"

"Death, mutilation, let just get it over with."

"Stop being dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic, just prefer my chances against you-know-who." Pansy snorted and rolled her eyes.

"My mother says you shouldn't say things you don't mean, it could end up biting you on the arse." Pansy crossed her arms.

"Charming woman your mother, known for her poetic turn of phrase is she?"

"Stop being a jerk. Daphne is nice and while your locking lips with her you're not doing it with Granger." Draco had to concede that she did have a point however atrocious and misguided. "I can set up a meeting and we can go from there." Draco gave her a withering look. "You won't even have to try she's already pretty crazy about you, it's quite unnerving at times."

"Fantastic I can hardly wait."

"You're going to have to try and be a bit nicer."

"You said I didn't have to do anything, besides if she's as besotted as you say she is, she should know that nice isn't really my thing." Pansy sighed, nodding her head in agreement. She supposed it was true, Draco Malfoy had not earned a reputation as being particularly nice to anyone, still thought Daphne managed to look at him like the sun shone out of his backside. "You really think this will work?" Draco asked, looking the most vulnerable she'd ever seen him.

"It's worth a shot, you just need to stay away from Granger. Far, far away." Draco nodded, laughing bitterly.

"Pans I…" He wanted to try and tell her how grateful he was that she hadn't hexed him or laughed in his face. He wanted to explain that in spite of the way he acted he was grateful that she was his friend.

She held up her hands stopping the blonde from continuing. "Please don't get all mushy on me Draco, then I might have to hex you, no magic outside of school be damned"

"Right, right." He smiled slightly and finished off the rest of his drink. He wasn't the best plan but it was better than nothing.


	44. Friendly Concern

Hermione took another ornament from the shelf, her forehead rotated it slowly taking in the strange design of a witch casting a spell on a small unsuspecting frog. With a shrug she placed it on a lower shelf, moving to pick up a pile of books and peruse each title. Her behaviour almost seemed normal, like the old Hermione, the Hermione before all the worry of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the return of You-know-who. Ginny, however, knew better. Hermione Granger was acting anything but normal.

Ginny Weasley didn't like to say that she'd learnt anything from her run-in with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, (apart from the obvious fact of never letting it happen again) but she knew it would be lying if she ever denied it. There was one thing she had learned (apart from the aforementioned never letting it happen again) and that was seeing things that other people, for whatever reason, didn't. They weren't necessarily big things, most of them were small and subtle and would quite easily pass most people by, but Ginny noticed them clearly.

It was because of this skill that Ginny knew there was something not entirely right with the way the Gryffindor held herself as she perused the shelves; shoulders too stiff, back slightly hunched as if wanting to disappear from view almost entirely. Granted Hermione had a habit of blending into most surroundings, especially when her nose was buried in her books, somehow though, she always had a relaxed air about her and an easy confidence with being just who she was. The Hermione Granger that stood in one of the small rooms of Grimmauld Place, sorting through books, looked too awkward and uncertain.

She'd been acting strange ever since she'd arrived at the Burrow, Ginny had become certain of it as time went on. Granted, the first signs had been small and subtle; her hugs, not a warm and loving as they usually were, the strangely orchestrated avoidance of Ron, following a period of her spending extraordinary amounts of time with him and her being generally distant. She tried to brush all these things off as being in her head or somehow related to Harry, but then Hermione had accompanied Ginny flying.

It was a tradition with the two girls, one that Ginny valued highly because it allowed her the freedom to practice Quidditch and, though Hermione didn't entirely get it, it was nice to share it with her. They'd taken Fred's old broomstick and traipsed a good way from the burrow. Hermione had opened out a blue blanket and sat curled up with a book as Ginny had kicked up into the clouds.

She loved it there, far away, everything about the earth just tiny specks and blotches. The wind would whip past her, blowing her hair behind her and filling her lungs with the sweetest air she'd ever tasted. The stresses of the day just seemed to brush off her, it no longer mattered that Percy wasn't talking to their family, or that Harry Potter wasn't with them, even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been far from her mind. She'd never understood Hermione's fear of flying and had often tried to encourage her onto the broom. Hermione had always shook her head, swearing that if she'd been meant to fly she would have been born with wings.

That day had been normal, until Ginny had decided to descend, the earth drawing her back down away from the clouds. Hermione hadn't been reading, instead, she seemed to be passing something between her fingers as she stared at it intently and almost sadly. The sight of it filled her with a fear and dread she hadn't quite experienced since second year. She'd panicked that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had found a way to her friend, but immediately brushed it off. Hermione was not like that and Ginny was sure of it. Whatever the scroll was though, Hermione did not want anyone to know about it as she had secreted it away when Ginny had gotten closer and the redhead did not see her with it again for some time. Not until they got to Grimmauld Place.

"So, you going to tell me what's wrong?" Ginny asked, as casually as possible, slipping beside her friend and reaching for a random book. She wiped the dust off the cover slowly before she chanced a look at Hermione. The Gryffindor had paused, her eyes wide as she glared at the faded red carpet beneath her feet.

"I don't know what you mean," Hermione mumbled after some time, placing her pile of books on an ornate wooden chair, the cushion decorated with faded embroidery that had turned a sickly yellow. She bent down to pick up a rather sorry looking cloth and began to wipe the shelf in earnest.

Though not entirely unlike Hermione, Ginny had found it a little weird that she had thrown herself so enthusiastically into the cleaning of Grimmauld Place, getting lost in the catching of various magical creatures that had made the old building their home and sorting through the piles of junk that Mrs Black had somehow managed to amass over the years. Some days the Gryffindor had hardly spoken to anyone as she cleaned and she only stopped when one them forced her to sit down and eat something. Such behaviour had lead Ginny to tentatively broach the subject with Ron but, as per, her brother was less than helpful and hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.

At first Ginny had thought Hermione's strange behaviour was to do with Harry. Every single one of them had felt somewhat guilty for being unable to tell Harry anything, keeping him out of the loop while they prepared Grimmauld Place. Regardless of how much Ginny trusted Dumbledore, she had questioned his judgement on that particular matter and she knew that Hermione had felt the same. Something told her that it had nothing to do with Harry, especially when the young wizard had turned up after his run-in with dementors and Hermione had not shown any signs of improving; if anything she had gotten worse. Especially with the tapestry.

During their excavation of the old decrepit house, Sirius' family tree had been uncovered; the old tapestry hanging from the wall, its gold thread still glinting faintly in the low light. It was only on the off-chance that Ginny had spotted Hermione staring at it, only a day after Harry had turned up, her hand hovering over the dusty material in what seemed almost like reverence.

"Of course you don't because you haven't been acting strangely at all." Ginny leant against the old, oak shelf, crossing her arms and staring at the side of Hermione's head.

"Well I don't think so" Hermione's voice was clipped, her cheeks flushing slightly as she focused far too much on dusting.

"You've been quiet all holiday." Ginny pointed out in exasperation. Hermione lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

"I can be quiet." She sniffed.

"Of course you can, but not about important things like; not being able to tell Harry anything, Ron's incessant moaning, not to mention the twins obvious misuse of magic." She pointed at each of her fingers as she reeled them off. Hermione flinched slightly as the redhead listed pretty much all the things that did, in fact, infuriate her.

"And I know for a fact that each and every one of those things has happened in abundance and you haven't so much as said a word." Hermione remained silent.

"You didn't even say anything the other day when Sirius was complaining at Kreacher again." Ginny could tell that observation bothered her as Hermione drew her bottom lip between her teeth guiltily.

"I didn't feel the need." Hermione finally uttered. Ginny scoffed, reaching forward and snatching the cloth from Hermione's hands.

"Hey…" Hermione started, but the words died on her lips as Ginny grabbed her shoulders, staring into her eyes as she spoke.

"I don't know what it is that's got you acting so….so different, but please tell me. I'll understand." There was a moment silence where Hermione inspected her shoes, then her shoulders slumped and she glanced up at Ginny, looking somewhat sheepish.

"There's-it's complicated." Hermione almost whispered.

"You know, whatever it is, I'll understand." Hermione smiled a little at Ginny, her face a mix of gratitude and disbelief.

"That's the thing," she took a deep breath, falling into another rickety chair, ignoring it creaks of protest, "I'm not sure that you will."

Ginny opened and closed her mouth several times somewhat appalled that her friend thought she wouldn't understand. Annoyance prickled slightly beneath the skin, but she soon brushed it off. Hermione would have her reasons, she always did.

"We both know that's not true, I have six brothers, I've seen and heard-well, you know it's just- just wow. You know I don't judge people." Hermione smiled slightly, nodding her head in agreement. Hermione had told Ginny many things including her feelings for Ron (not that she could ever hide them from Ginny anyway) and her friend hadn't so much as blinked. It was true that the redhead had been a source of comfort when talking to the boys had not been an option and Hermione felt guilty for having to hide how she felt.

"I don't know where to start," Hermione mumbled it at her knees. She knew exactly where to start, but saying it was impossible, and she was acutely aware that the twins had been wandering around the house with their latest invention of extendable ears. While handy when listening in on secret meetings, they were becoming increasingly annoying when trying to have day to day conversations.

"Well, the beginning would be preferable." Ginny missed Hermione rolling her eyes as she turned and began dragging a chair over, kicking the door shut as she passed it.

"But the twins." Hermione hissed, glancing around the room suspiciously as if they would pop up at moment as they had a tendency to do. Ginny waved her hand, she knew for a fact they had managed to slip away with Mundungus while their mother had been distracted with fussing over Harry.

"The twins won't be a problem," Ginny assured her and plonked herself into her seat. "Nor will anyone else before you say anything." Harry and Ron were in the middle of a fierce game of Wizard Chess, Ginny's mother was as usual bustling in the kitchen preparing food while Tonks did her best to help and the last time Ginny had seen Sirius, Mad-Eye and her father, they had been tucked away in the front room, heads pressed together in a secret conversation.

Hermione didn't know what to say, her mouth opening and closing several times before she simply gave up and sat back.

"It can't be that bad." Hermione cringed at Ginny's choice of words. It was bad, it was very bad, worse than bad. When she'd turned up at the Burrow she'd been determined to put Malfoy from her mind. The blonde had, after all, left her feeling utterly confused and on top of that resorted to calling her names again. But as soon as she'd arrived she felt a strange sort of longing. The Sensieve's magic didn't gather around her like it used to and memories of Malfoy lingered at the most inappropriate times. They weren't even substantial memories; just the way he said certain things, his laugh, his sarcasm, the way he'd run his hands through his blonde hair. They were beyond distracting and only made the weird longing worse.

"It is." Hermione closed her eyes for several seconds trying to even her breathing and slow her heart down. She had to talk to someone about it. Not understanding was driving her mad.

"Right." Ginny remained quiet for some time, tapping her fingers against the snakeheads carved into the wooden arms of her chair. "How about we speak in hypotheticals?" Hermione frowned, she could practically hear Malfoys drool in her head; _Gryffindor bravery is out in droves today._

"Hypotheticals?"

"Mhm, no names, you don't even have to go into extreme detail, just the basics."

Hermione supposed it wasn't a terrible idea, she could skirt around the issue without having to explicitly say that it seemed like she was missing Draco Malfoy. Just the thought of it made her shiver involuntarily.

"Right, hypotheticals, okay. Well, I...I guess you could say that I have recently been…" Hermione struggled with how to explain her time with Malfoy and another part of her was reluctant, it all felt strangely precious to her which was rather worrying. "I've been spending time with...with someone, I don't usually, quite a bit of time actually." Ginny nodded slowly.

"Any particular reason why?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the question.

"It's complicated. Let's just say that we accidentally started spending time together and...and it's not a person I would normally spend time with." She almost groaned at her phrasing wondering when it was she became so inarticulate. Ginny smiled wolfishly.

"You know you're starting to sound a bit like Lavender." Hermione gave her friend a withering look, appalled at herself.

"I do, don't I? Oh gosh, and you haven't even heard the rest." Ginny couldn't help but smile, she was acting like Hermione again and that eased some of her worries.

"Okay, what's the rest?"

"I don't even want to tell you." Hermione cringed, shaking her head slightly and tapping into the Gryffindor bravery she knew must have been lurking inside her somewhere.

"Well, there have been moments when this other person has been strange, being….ah I don't know, being really happy with me, getting close."

"And this person wasn't happy with you before?" Hermione shook her head quickly, suppressing a sardonic smile.

"No, anything but." Ginny nodded slowly, obviously processing the information.

"And how did you feel about them?" Hermione paused, unsure how to answer.

There was no doubt that before she had despised the very ground he walked on, but now? She'd felt as though they'd become closer, definitely, but that was all due to the Sensieve and Mina and Edward's story. At least she thought that had been the case, until they'd spent the day together and she'd actually found herself having fun, enjoying his company. Now that he refused to use the scroll to contact her she felt infuriated and frustrated. Several times she'd almost given in and written to him, but her pride had stilled the pen before she went through with the stupid plan.

"I don't - I don't really know." She muttered.

"So this is it, this is what's been bugging you." Hermione blushed, her face turning a deep red almost instantly.

"Well, no….there's..there is more," Ginny said nothing but gazed at her expectantly, leaning forward slightly in her chair. "Well, the person sort….gosh I sound like Lavender." Quickly Hermione looked up, her eyes flaring with renewed determination. "He kissed me and I don't understand it."

Ginny sat back, her eyes wide. Many things she had expected but this was by no means one of them. It wasn't very often that Hermione had conversations like this, in fact when the rest of the girls in the Gryffindor common room gathered together and giggled about boys they liked, Hermione would ignore them and carry on with her homework or with reading. Even when Krum had followed Hermione round like a lost puppy she'd seem less than impressed and only really spoken to Ginny about it once. Even then it was just to tell her that she felt guilty for not liking the seeker as much as he liked her.

"Well if he kissed you it must mean he likes you." Ginny had to bite her lip to keep herself from asking who this strange person was. Hermione scoffed.

"He insulted me straight after and hasn't spoken to me since, I think that it means the exact opposite." Ginny shrugged.

"I don't know, it depends how you reacted to the kiss I suppose." Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head.

"What?" Ginny asked, examining her friends face as a whole number of emotions flickered across them.

"It's just I - it shocked me. If you knew - if you knew who it was…" Hermione shook her head, it was impossible that Draco Malfoy could see her as anything but a Mudblood. Somehow though, the idea that he might possibly feel that way didn't disgust her and that alone made her want to bang her head against the nearest wall.

"So let me get this straight, someone, who shall remain nameless, kissed you and you don't know what it means?" Hermione nodded slowly, "and what, you want to find out?"

"I don't know...I'm not even sure how I would find something like that out. He's not even talking to me anymore."

"And you don't think he will?"

"Don't think who will?" Fred asked, popping into the room unannounced, dark smudges on his cheeks. Hermione and Ginny both jumped, turning to the intruder with matching scowls on their faces.

"None of your business." Ginny spat, narrowing her eyes at the extendable ear dangling from his fingers. "Where have you been anyway," she said quickly, hoping to change the subject and distract her brother.

Fred grinned broadly, tapping the side of his nose slowly.

"Well, now little sis, that would be telling wouldn't it?"

"And we are sworn to secrecy" George added, appearing next to his brother, his own extendable ear dangling from his fingers, his cheeks just as muddy.

"You know mom will kill you if she see's you with those things." She said pointing at the offending objects.

"She will have to catch us first," Fred stated, placing his extendable ear in the pocket of the emerald green coat he had taken to wearing.

"YOU BOYS GET HERE THIS INSTANT!" Mrs Weasley shouted from downstairs, her shrill voice waking up Mrs Black and causing her portrait to shriek along with her about blood traitors taking over her home.

"That would be our cue to make ourselves scarce, I think," George said, disappearing quickly and Fred soon followed.

Ginny turned to Hermione after a moment, giving her a sympathetic look.

"Well, we can't talk about it now." Ginny sighed, shaking her head slowly. Hermione couldn't help but agree, even if the twins were distracted she didn't want to risk it, they had a habit of finding things out that no one wanted them to. She still wasn't exactly sure how much of their conversation the boys had already heard and that worried her.

"Mom was talking about going shopping tomorrow, for school. We can talk about it then." Hermione nodded but she wasn't sure. Though talking to Ginny had made her feel a little better there was a huge part of her that worried about whether it was the right thing. So far the redhead had no idea who it was that she was on about, Hermione dreaded her reaction when she found out it was actually the blonde Slytherin they all despised. It wouldn't take them long to figure out who it was she had been meeting up with.

That night as they gathered around the table, Ginny kept glancing at Hermione, chewing the inside of her mouth with worry. The young witch seemed to be in a world of her own. Nodding slightly to herself Ginny came to the conclusion that she would have to find out who it was that was causing her friend so much trouble. She would find out and she would do everything she could to help.


	45. Expecto Patronum

"Concentrate!" Snape shouted, as Draco's legs once again gave way beneath him, another Jelly-Legs Jinx hitting him square in the chest and leaving him with legs of rubber. Draco counted slowly to ten as he gritted his teeth and slowly rose to his feet, squinting at the dark-haired wizard standing the other side of the ballroom, resting nonchalantly against the black grand piano.

Draco lifted his wand to mutter a spell but the older wizard was faster, flicking his wrist casually, sending the blonde hair boy reeling back, his shoulder slamming painfully into the wall.

"You have to block." Snape sounded bored and that made Draco even more annoyed.

"This...this is pointless," Draco shouted, scrambling to his knees and sending a Stinging Jinx towards Snape. The wizard blocked it easily, not even blinking as he sent one in return and Draco face began to swell. Snape quickly muttered the counter curse and Draco flopped against the wall in annoyance.

"Enough!" Draco shrieked, trying to ignore the disapproving mutterings from the Malfoy ancestors framed and hung on the walls of the ballroom. "Why am I doing this? it's...useless."

"It's only useless because you aren't trying." Snape drooled, adjusting the sleeves of his robes casually. "Your mother seems to think you will benefit. Now, attack!" Draco huffed, staring at his wand gripped in his fingers. Lessons had been going on for a good proportion of the holiday and they had not been going well.

Everything was so distracting. Pansy taking up all of his free time with trying to smash him and Daphne together was distracting, trying to pretend that he was fine was distracting and trying not to think about one particular muggle-born was beyond distracting, it was infuriating (mainly because it didn't work). He told himself that it was because of all these things that none of the hexes he aimed at the wizard came even remotely close to hitting their mark.

At first, Pansy's idea had worked, spending time with Greengrass had actually somewhat lessened the thoughts of Granger. Slowly though, she'd crept back in and he'd begun to compare things that Daphne said and did with the bushy-haired Gryffindor. It didn't come as much of a shock that Greengrass didn't even compare. Of course, he realised how pitiful and pathetic it was comparing Greengrass to Granger, but Daphne didn't infuriate him like Granger did, she didn't have him laughing one minute then screaming and shouting the next. In fact, the blonde girl didn't make him feel much of anything. Granger, on the other hand, seemed to have a habit of making him feel every detestable emotion at once, even when she wasn't around.

Draco pushed himself off the wall, lifting his wand and pointing it at Snape.

" _Petrificus Totalus_." The curse flew toward Snape at an alarming speed, but the wizard sent it straight back without so much as blinking. Quickly, Draco dodged it and tried again. The curse once again flew towards him, catching his hip and sending him to the floor, his limbs held in place and rigid. He fumed silently as Snape took an exaggerated amount of time crossing the room and muttering the counter curse.

"Victories are short lived when you don't pay attention." Snape sneered, admiring his fingernails in the most pompous and annoying way.

"This is going nowhere." Draco sighed from the floor, refusing to get to his feet just yet and continue with the embarrassment.

"As I have said before, it's going nowhere because you aren't trying." Snape pointed out making Draco's shoulders tense. He was tired of trying, tired of putting in so much effort to impress a girl that he didn't like and learning things he didn't really care about.

"I am trying." He whined, clambering to his feet and crossing his arms in annoyance. He cast a quick glance around the room at all his ancestors. They had stopped their muttering but were still gazing at him disapproval, clearly not impressed with his magical prowess.

"At least you managed to block something and your reflexes are no longer..woeful," Severus said slowly and Draco felt himself flush with shame. "Now, the Patronus charm." Snape continued, placing his wand in his robe pocket, walking back across the room to make himself comfortable on the piano stool.

"What about it." Draco shrugged, hoping to stall. Snape gave him a withering look before gesturing for the blonde to begin.

The Patronus charm was his least favourite spell to cast, mainly because it had never worked, much to Snape's infuriation. Draco had gone through every happy thought he could think of, calling them to mind and sinking himself into the feeling, but the most he'd managed were a few pitiful blue sparks out the end of his wand.

"I would love to know what exactly it is that you're waiting for." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm getting ready." Draco snapped. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Remember, it must be something happy - the happiest." Draco vaguely wondered what thoughts made Snape happy, he imagined it was berating someone student or another, reducing the poor sucker to tears.

"I know this, I've tried everything I can think of."

"One happy memory, that's all." Snape sounded tired.

"I know, I know. I've been through them all."

"The memory it has - has to be...special." Draco blinked at the dark-haired wizard sure he'd heard reverence in his usual monotone drawl.

There were memories that stood out in clear blinding happiness and every time he thought of them he struggled to push them to the dark corners of his mind. Every time they popped into existence he could feel the slight tingle of old magic against his skin and the sweet smell of strawberries. They were all Granger. Merlin, every single, disgustingly enjoyable one of them was riddled with the Gryffindor and he'd refused point blank to use them to cast any sort of spell.

Now he found himself faced with the possibility that they might be the only way, nothing else worked. He started sifting through them comforting himself with the idea that he wouldn't have to use a big memory. Something small and insignificant.

Ice cream, the smell of strawberries and her laughter; the giddy happiness he'd felt when she'd smiled at him from across the table. Their first real conversation, he was sure that it wouldn't be that much of a big deal to use the memory, it couldn't hurt.

Breathing out slowly he lost himself in the memory, smiling slightly at her explanation of spew. He lifted his wand.

" _Expecto Patronum_."

Bright light burst into the ballroom, painting every surface blue as a shape began to form with it. It flew towards the ceiling before gliding down to land in front of him. It was a dragon, a horntail to be exact or at least it was supposed to be. The creature before him didn't exactly look like any horntail he had seen before. For starters, it was much smaller than a Horntail was supposed to be. Draco guessed that this was possibly due to the spell, he'd never read anything about the animals being to scale, but then again he hadn't read much on the Patronus Charm anyway.

The rest of it though he couldn't quite get his head around. The face, the scales, the spikes all the way down to the tip of its long tale all screamed dragon, but its legs were small and stunted, covered in what looked like fur and looked almost comical when attached to the, significantly out of proportion, scaly body.

"Is that - is it supposed to look like that?" Draco muttered, eyes following his Patronus as it floated around him.

"No," Snape commented, frowning slightly. He had risen from his seat when the spell was cast and was slowly inspecting the creature as it lavished Draco with attention. The dark-haired wizard's eyes narrowed then seemed to widen in alarm.

Draco had to admit he understood the Professor's confusion, upon further inspection the dragons face was not as fierce as Draco had first assumed. Its snout seemed somewhat shorter and its wide eyes seemed, for lack of a better word, cute. Horntails were not supposed to be cute and they absolutely were supposed to be in proportion. He considered that he'd probably cast it wrong and that Snape would admonish him for his idiocy. Instead the wizard asked him a question.

"The memory?" Draco spluttered for a moment unsure how to answer that question, he knew he couldn't divulge the truth not to Snape, or to anyone. Pansy knowing some of his innermost thoughts was more than enough people. The dragon slowly disappeared, blue light fading from the room as Draco began to panic, he needed to think of something quick but nothing he came up with seemed even remotely believable.

"The first time I used magic." He muttered, knowing instantly that Snape had not believed him. The dark-haired wizard nodded once and removed his wand from the pocket of his robes.

Draco looked at it, then back up at Snape, confused. Their lessons had always ended after he'd tried the Patronus lasting for, at most, two hours. Now though it seemed that Snape wished to continue. Draco couldn't understand the dread that curled in his gut.

"Well, now we know you're able to cast the Patronus, your training can move forward." Draco gulped. "Your mother has expressed her wishes that you learn Occlumency."

It took Draco a while to process what Snape had said and what exactly that meant for him. As soon as understanding dawned on him, he began to panic.

"What?" He shouted, not entirely meaning to. Snape didn't flinch, seeming to remain unconcerned with the Slytherins obvious displeasure at learning such a thing.

"Your mother wishes for you to become familiar with the ways of protecting your mind," Snape exclaimed slowly, a small smile curling on his lips. Draco shook his head in disbelief. There was no way his mother would want someone delving into his mind, even if it was to train to protect it.

"Now I will try to enter your mind and you will use whatever you deem necessary to stop me." Snape lifted his wand.

"Wait, wait, can't you-you can't be serious." Snape gave Draco a withering look and Draco gulped. He knew it wasn't the best tactic for stalling but it was all he had.

"And why is it you would believe I am anything but deathly serious?" The wizard drooled, his expression giving nothing away.

"I can't see why learning that would ever be useful." Draco shrugged, trying his best to look unphased. He knew all the reasons and ways it would be useful, especially with the Dark Lord making an appearance again, he just hoped by the time Snape had taken him through all the reasons it would be too late to carry on with the lesson. He wasn't holding out much hope.

Snape glanced quickly at Draco's ancestors, who were walking between frames and whispering conspiratorially to one another, before turning back to the blonde, his gaze seeming to search his soul.

"Do you know much about legilimency?" Snape asked slowly.

Draco shrugged, he knew bits and pieces but nothing concrete. He nearly choked when he thought of Granger, she would know everything. She'd push her bushy hair behind her ears and recite every fact she'd ever learnt about it. He nearly swore when his heart ached with a longing to see her again.

"Those who practice Legilimency are able to navigate other people's minds with ease, learning their thoughts, their feelings, memories the person would prefer to remain hidden." Snape seemed to look at him meaningfully at the last part and Draco gulped.

"Do you know of a famous practitioner of Legilimency?" Snape asked curiously. Draco once again gulped, he only knew of one and he did not want to say his name. He knew he couldn't let Snape into his head but he was aware that someone else might want to and they wouldn't ask permission.

"Do you know the wizard I am referring to?" Snape pressed again and Draco nodded slowly. He knew that Snape was being deliberately vague and he understood why. Malfoy Manor had become a dangerous place to say certain things, it wasn't something that was explicitly stated but Draco could feel it in the air.

"In order to protect yourself from people reading such thoughts, it is important to protect your mind. Your memories are a gateway to your fears and weaknesses. If the enemy knows such things they know how to get to you."

"The enemy?" Draco asked, blinking a couple of times in shock. A small flicker of hope blossomed in his gut at the thought of Snape calling the Dark Lord, the enemy. If the dark-haired wizard felt that way then he could confide in someone. The thought of not being alone had the same effect as a Jelly-Leg Jinx and his legs almost gave out from under him.

"Anyone that forces you to do things through manipulation of your mind, is your enemy." Draco wanted to point out that The Dark Lord had done that several times but thought better of it.

"I think I'll take my chances." Draco finally said, coming to the conclusion that it, assuming Snape was on the same side as him, was too much of a risk.

He dreaded to think what would happen to him if The Dark Lord did look into his mind, what would happen to Hermione. He'dd heard stories, terrible, terrible stories that had woke his screaming in the night, sweat soaking his skin as he struggled for breath. The night terrors had always been a problem when he was younger, back when his father had insisted on whispering about the greatest wizard that ever lived. Draco hadn't wanted to hear it, but his father had shook him till he'd stopped crying, spitting in his face that he needed to hear it in case the great wizard ever returned. He'd stopped crying after that and said and did everything that his father told him was correct. Now that he thought about it, his father had looked the way he did when he thought about his feelings for Hermione; petrified.

"That's not wise." Snape drawled, his eyes seeming to darken. Draco shrugged again, pushing his wand into his pocket, hoping it would signal the end of the lesson.

"It's not like I have anything to hide." The wizard stared at him for some time then he seemed to concede, stepping to one side with a slight nod of his head. Draco nodded back, hurrying for the door. He hadn't expected it to be so easy. He made himself a promise that he would trawl through the book of old magic Granger had given him and see if he could find anything relating to occlumency. He would teach himself.

"Draco." Draco paused, turning slightly. His eyes widened suddenly when the wizard spoke.

" _Legilimens."_

Draco could sense the presence of something wrong within his head, something unwanted and altogether not him. He tried desperately to fight against it, to block its access to his thoughts, but the presence seemed to slip past them unhindered. Memories flickered before his eyes as Snape rifled through them; learning to dance with his mother, the first time he met Potter, his father shaking him and making him cry but then rushing to comfort him when a storm had terrified him. Then, to Draco's horror, the memories of Granger began to circulate; the way she infuriated him, how she made him constantly catch his breath, her smile, her laughter, her fury and anger. All of it was laid out in his mind and Snape seemed to be looking at each of them in turn.

The memories suddenly paused lingering on the last time he'd seen her, lips pressed together, the warmth of her close…

"NOOOOO!" Draco felt the presence wrenched from his mind and his knees buckled beneath him as the memory stopped. To his horror, his cheeks were wet with tears. He sucked in several shaky breaths, staring at the marble floor, not daring to look at the wizard standing behind him.

Suddenly, Snape brushed past him, opening the door and stepping out of it. He turned once to Draco.

"Come with me." He began walking down the long stretch of corridor, his robes fluttering behind him.

Draco thought seriously about staying exactly where he was and pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary, but he knew Snape would not let it go. With his heart beating furiously in his chest, Draco heaved himself upright on his wobbly legs and followed his Professor down the hall, his head lowered in shame.

Panic bubbled in his stomach making him feel slightly sick. He'd always known that Snape was one of the most hated teachers, especially amongst those that weren't Slytherin, but that was a fact he'd always sort of revelled in. Now though he felt the fear within him, knowing exactly how all those students had felt.

Snape stopped and Draco stumbled to a standstill behind him. His mother and father, he knew, were off galavanting with some pureblood family or another, putting in their appearances where it mattered. Draco had at one point been somewhat glad of the lessons as they excused him from such social niceties that made his skin crawl. Now though, he wished he was right alongside them, smiling at all the right people and saying all the right things.

Snape pushed the door to the small sitting room open forcefully and stepped inside. Draco dithered beneath the stone arch, unsure whether he wanted to enter an even smaller enclosed space with his angry Professor. Snape looked at him with dark eyes.

"We don't have time for you to admire the decor." He said sarcastically, allowing himself a small smirk. Draco scowled, stepping into the room and turning quickly as Snape shut the door and locked it.

It was the smallest room in the house, fitted with a small squat desk, and ageing armchair and books that dated back to an era that Draco didn't care to think about. By the side of the armchair sat his Father's drinks cabinet in the shape of the earth, when it was opened a projection of the night sky painted the ceiling. The decor was pretty bog standard when compared with the rest of the household, which Narcissa Malfoy had taken pains to make her own. Draco knew why Snape had picked this room however, there weren't many people that were privy to such information but, the room, upon being built, had been imbued with magic. It meant that any conversation that took place inside it remained unheard. Draco gulped.

Snape stood, framed in a small halo of light created by the small torch flickering near his head. The silence felt oppressive and Draco spoke simply to try and dispel the atmosphere.

"How - " Draco gulped, "- how much did you see?" His clasped and unclasped his hands, wringing them together every so often.

"Enough." Snape spoke, his voice sounding so loud in the small room. Draco winced.

Snape turned, his dark eyes holding an unfathomable expression. Draco shifted his feet uncomfortably looking away from the Professor and staring at the dusty books: he frowned when they reminded him of a certain dusty bookstore and what had almost happened there with a certain book-loving Gryffindor.

"There's - there's nothing there now, we…" Draco cleared his throat. "She and I are no longer in contact." Snape was quiet for some time, once again making Draco feel uncomfortable.

"You and Granger attend the same school, I hardly think you will have no contact," Snape said coolly. He said down in the armchair with a sigh and looked at Draco sternly.

"You will tell me everything." Draco's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in shock.

"But...but."

"Everything," Snape repeated sternly, leaning back and steepling his fingers. "Leave out no details."


	46. Precious Lilies

"Down there?" George asked, pointing down the dark, dingy alleyway that Mrs Weasley had gestured towards hastily.

"You want us to go down there?" Fred clarified, his mouth opening slightly in shock when their mother nodded.

"Now quickly dears, muggles can be a curious bunch if you give them enough cause." She shot Hermione a rather sheepish smile as she said this before jostling the boys towards the entrance.

The alleyway was not the most inviting of places. It was a slim gap between two abandoned buildings that appeared to have been derelict for some time. One store, which boasted having the ' _best pies in all of ondon',_ had completely lost its roof and weeds sprouted out the top of it. The other had, at one point, been a barber's shop, as the barber's pole still hung rather precariously from the side of the building. Most of its windows though had been boarded up and every inch of its bricks was covered in some form of graffiti. Ron had read some of it aloud only to fall silent when his mother had warningly hissed his name.

"See, nothing to be squeamish about." Mrs Weasley stated, though seeming to not entirely believe it herself. Ginny scoffed next to Hermione and pointed out a rather strange pile of something damp and unidentified, the smell that wafted up from it, however, was enough for Hermione to give it a wide berth, quite happy to let its identity remain a mystery.

At first glance it seemed like a perfectly standard alleyway; sporting the usual dampness and chill in the air, uneven cobbles beneath their feet and bits of newspaper with old posters wedged between the gaps in the stone, mixed together in a damp paper mush. Hermione realised, however, that there did not seem to be an end and it didn't look as if it were leading anywhere, instead, the buildings appeared to go on forever, stretching back unbelievably far. Hermione noticed that with each step the walls seemed to open up, whereas before Hermione and Ginny had struggled to walk side by side without brushing along the walls, now it seemed that they could walk side by side quite happily and the walls had lost their damp sheen.

When they finally reached their destination, Hermione's mouth opened in shock. She'd heard Harry often say that magic constantly surprised him and she had to admit there were times that she felt the same. Especially when she gazed upon the very thin but incredibly tall building that seemed to just appear at the end of the alley, lit up, impossibly, by the warmth and glow of bright sunlight. _Precious Lilies_ was painted in white above the bay window on the ground floor, green stems seeming to weave around it, blooming into Lilies of every kind of colour Hermione could name and some that she was sure had no name. Every inch of the brick work was covered in lush green vines, and small flowers appeared every few seconds, blooming daintily before disappearing.

A woman, short in stature with wiry limbs, appeared to be wrestling with a watering can, tugging at it uselessly as she tried to pull it away from a hedge. The women's auburn hair stuck out at all angles and Hermione stared open-mouthed when she noticed that her clothes appeared to be made out of leaves. The tiny woman paused in her battle to look up and grin broadly at them.

"Ahh customers." Her voice was melodic and the effect it had on the boys was on par with the group of Veelas, from the Quidditch World Cup, flouncing past.

"Durie, my dear." Mrs Weasley said brightly, opening her arms wide as she bustled past her sons. The small woman's grin seemed to broaden even more as she let go of the watering can and rushed to embrace Molly. Vines sprouted from the woman's head, weaving around her auburn hair and falling down her back.

"How have you been? It's been so long." Molly nodded sadly at her words.

"I'm afraid things have been rather hectic at home and you know how terribly busy Arthur gets."

"Yes, yes, have you been giving him that tea I suggested, calms the nerves considerably."

"Oh yes…" Molly paused and glanced back at the group of them all staring somewhat wide-eyed at the strange woman, seeming to suddenly remember their presence. "Oh yes, Durie I should probably introduce you." Durie's eyes opened wide in excitement and Hermione realised that they were, in fact, bright purple.

Molly went round each of them introducing them and Hermione had to bite back a laugh as the boys all flushed when Durie grasped their hands in her own and cooed over what an honour it was to meet them all. However, when it became Hermione's turn, the laughter died in her throat. Durie was much more beautiful up close, her features so wonderfully perfect and symmetrical Hermione was sure that they couldn't be human, there was something ethereal about her as if she would simply float away. Hermione could feel the tingle of Durie's magic as she took her hands and the old magic that lingered around her seemed to recognise it, flaring up without warning. She'd gotten so used to its absence that its sudden appearance almost made her legs buckle beneath her, but Durie grasped her hands and held her up with a strength that shocked her.

"Hermione Granger, a pleasure to meet you." It seemed as though she meant to say more, but instead, she stepped back and took them all in.

"So what is it I can do for you all?" Molly, who was looking Hermione curiously, smiled and clutched her bag closer to her side.

"Oh yes, we wondered if we could beg transportation from you, my dear. We would use our own but dark times are upon us and well-" Molly leaned forward conspiratorially "-we are trying to move as quietly as possible."

"Anything at all for you, Molly. Come inside, come inside. You will stay for some tea and cake though, I've just got some on the boil." Molly nodded, however reluctantly, turning to them all and ushering them in with a big sweep of her arms. Hermione wondered whether Mrs Weasley's hesitation was a want to get back as quickly as possible, they had no idea what time Harry would be back and they were all anxious to hear how things had gone.

The inside of Durie's house was not what Hermione had expected. She hadn't really known what she'd expected, perhaps a quaint cottage, roaring fire, cosy chairs, small pieces of furniture befitting of the woman's stature and build, she definitely had not expected to walk into a dense forest. The ground beneath their feet was soft moss and trees grew close together their thick trunks creating the walls and their branches wove together into a ceiling. Rocks were piled up the corner of the room forming a stairway to the second floor, a small stream running down the side of it and collecting in a pool at the bottom. Ginny and Hermione glanced at each other in disbelief before craning their necks to see more.

"This is…" Ron began, only to be interrupted by his brothers.

"Fabulous."

"Unbelievable."

"Stupendous." Fred paused when he noticed the stream in the corner. "How do you get that to work." He muttered stepping round Ron to inspect it. Durie smiled sweetly but didn't answer. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, she guessed that they would be looking for new ideas for their joke shop and Durie's home was like a treasure trove.

"The pair of you behave." Mrs Weasley hissed, grabbing George's collar when he moved to follow a rather real looking squirrel that was digging up the earth.

"Oh, it's quite alright, Molly," Durie said, giggling sweetly. "I know this place isn't like anywhere else."

Hermione thought that was a considerable understatement, on closer inspection she noticed that the tree trunks had images that flickered across them. Beautiful women ran through trees, hiding amidst the wood and sinking into the ground as if they had always been apart of it. On another a fierce looking man rode a great black horse, a large spear grasped in his hand as he hunted something within the forest; small beings danced beneath a large white moon and magical creatures met beneath trees heavy with pink blossoms

"What are these?" Hermione mumbled, leaning close and placing her fingers on the rough bark. The images seemed to ripple as if Hermione had touched the surface of a lake.

"Oh those are little snippets from my past, you witches and wizards have your ways, I have mine." She said with a small smile, placing a large pot over a fire that burned many shades of green.

"Who's this?" Ron asked, his nose nearly brushing the rough bark as he took in the image of a beautiful woman stepping from out the hollow of her tree, her dress was long and made of leaves fiery with autumn, bare feet poking beneath them as pale and white as the moon.

"Oh that," Durie said with a smile, rushing forward, a small mug in the shape of a mushroom clasped in her hands. "That's my mother," Durie said with pride.

Durie's mother was absolutely stunning, there was something otherworldly about her, her purple eyes glimmered with a thousand secrets and her smile was so sweet and inviting Hermione felt herself almost tempted to step within the magical image.

"She's...she's beautiful." Ginny breathed, leaning just as close as Ron had.

"Isn't she, honestly I don't think this does her the slightest bit of justice, but then, I suppose I am biased." she sauntered over to a small pot and lifted out several small green objects, placing each of them on a plate.

"So where is it you lot are off to?" Durie asked sweetly, handing Mrs Weasley a plate and breezing past her to hand another one to Ginny. Mrs Weasley sniffed the item gingerly, her nose wrinkling as if she'd smelt something fowl. When Hermione's own plate was pressed into her hands she found herself suppressing a gag as a rather disgusting smell overwhelmed her senses. Hermione wondered whether Mrs Weasley's reluctance to stay for tea was less to do with getting back to hear news of Harry and more to do with Durie's lack of culinary prowess.

"Diagon Alley," Molly clarified, glad of a distraction from the offensive cake on her plate. "We have some shopping to do, got to prepare for the new school year." Durie clapped her hands with glee.

"Oh, you all attend Hogwarts?" She looked at each of them and they all nodded. "How is Dumbledore these days?" Mrs Weasley sat herself down on a tree stump, shifting from side to side to get comfortable.

"He is as well as can be considering the circumstances. Lots of nasty things are afoot." Hermione pretended to be inspecting her cake but was listening intently to the conversation, hoping to catch some snippet of information that the occupants of Grimmauld Place had simply decided not to tell them.

"Yes so I heard, Voldemort isn't it?" Durie said it so whimsically as if it weren't the name of the most dangerous Dark Wizard the Wizarding World had ever known. Everyone apart from the twins seemed to react; a cold shiver ran down Hermione's back making her shudder, Ginny jumped slightly in her chair, Ron whipped his head round to check behind him and Molly let out a little squeak.

Molly took a moment to compose herself before answering in a clipped tone.

"Yes..yes that's right." She took a nervous nibble of her cake and instantly placed it back down, wincing.

"You know of...of You-Know-Who?" Ginny asked. Hermione met her friend's gaze before turning to look at the strange woman inquisitively.

"Of course I do." Durie squeaked, "I know of all the goings-on, some of my best customers are witches and wizards, I get a few open-minded... oh what do you call them now Molly?" Durie said clicking her fingers.

"Muggles," Molly interjected, shuffling her feet uncomfortably as she tried to surreptitiously secret the rest of her cake in the large number of four-leaf clovers surrounding her feet.

"Yes that's it muggles, but not many."

"But if you know, why don't you help?" The question burst out of Hermione without her fully considering the ramifications of asking it. She ignored Mrs Weasley's disapproving glare, hoping that Durie would not take offence. Apparently, the woman was delighted with the question, giggling sweetly and sitting herself down on a tree stump, gesturing for the rest of them to do the same.

"I suppose it does seem a little strange to you all, me being here, quite a bit away from all the goings on of the wizarding community. Believe me, if I had it my way I'd be right in the thick of it." Durie took a bite of her own cake, munching on it happily.

"Then why don't you?" Hermione asked, shuffling forward on her tree stump. She could feel Mrs Weasley's glare boring into the back of her head, but she ignored it.

"Legally I can't dear." Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to formulate a sentence.

"What?" Ginny asked for her, even the twins seemed to have perked up slightly, turning their heads to listen.

"Oh I suppose it would sound a bit strange to you all, would it not."

Durie jumped to her feet, removing the pot from over the green fire and pouring them each a cup of tea. Hermione nibbled her bottom lip in frustration, there seemed to be no haste to the small woman and Hermione was eager for her to explain.

"A long time ago," Durie handed both Ginny and Hermione a cup of tea, "a very, very long time ago, my mother, and those like her worked rather closely with witches and wizards. You see there was…a different type of magic then. It was older and it was the same magic that had created my mother."

"Created?" Ron asked, glancing back at the image still glimmering on the surface of the bark.

"Oh yes, my mother was a wood-wife or moss wife or a spirit of the forest, whatever it was that people used to call them. She was made to protect the forest." Hermione wondered whether Mina knew any spirits like Durie's mother and had to bite her tongue to keep from asking.

"So are you a...a wood-wife?" Hermione asked tentatively and was shocked when Durie let out a large shriek of laughter in answer.

"Oh no, no, no dear, though I can understand the confusion. No, my father you see, he was a wizard, a great wizard. Met my mother the night of 'The Wild Hunt' and I came not long after."

"The Wild Hunt? As in nasty soul grabbing spirit trying to drag away unsuspecting victims?" Fred, who had managed to corner the squirrel, asked momentarily distracted. Hermione was shocked that Fred had heard of such a thing, as far as she was aware it only existed in Muggle Mythology. He shrugged when his mother stared at him in wide-eyed shock.

"One of Dads muggle books."

"Yes, one and the same." Durie giggled, tiny sparks of magic popping around her head like little fireworks.

"When father died, mother and I retreated back into the forest. Not long after that witches and wizards simply stopped using Old Magic. Well their link with us was gone, severed and because of their decision, many wood wives lost their power, along with the other spirits of course. None of us could hide away and no new spirits were being created."

"So you mean to say that there was this old magic and we simply what...stopped using it?" Ron asked, scoffing at how ridiculous it all was.

"Yes, that's exactly right."

"But that's..that's impossible, surely we'd just find it all again." Durie pursed her lips, suppressing a smile.

"Old magic does not work that way my dear, as soon as we have had this conversation, you will forget."

Hermione sat bolt upright as Durie said this. Hermione had wondered why Mr Weasley had said nothing about the archives they'd travelled through when they had made it to The Burrow. He seemed to have heard about it and known that some people believed in its existence (including his friend Tiny) but seeing it was another matter. She couldn't understand it herself as Arthur hadn't seemed all that shocked by seeing A.R.M.A, in fact at some points it was as though he had seen it before.

"Is it some sort of spell?" Fred asked innocently, no doubt already figuring out a way to counter it.

"I'm not quite sure my dear, you would have to take it up with the Witches and Wizards who put such measures in place. All I know is that the only way to counter the effects is to be touched by old magic," Durie turned to stare at Hermione, "and that is rare thing indeed."

"Oh don't go giving them ideas, my dear, these two will have a field day trying to find out ways to be ' _touched by old magic'_."

"Sounds a little too familiar," George commented.

"I like to be wined and dined first." Ron spluttered on his mint tea at Fred's words. The laughter soon died when Mrs Weasley pinned them with a stare.

"So, so what happened after we stopped using old magic." Ginny asked." Durie sighed into her mushroom shaped mug and continued.

" _Sluagh..._ Oh, I mean Muggles were able to see us and that is where all their mythology came from, reams and reams of it. You wouldn't believe the amount those folk would wax lyrical about, we'd only have to go to the bathroom and we were blessing the ground." The boys allowed themselves a quiet chuckle.

"Well obviously they didn't find us a blessing forever, soon there were hunts for us, running us down and killing us one by one. Added to that 'The Wild Hunt'," Durie shook her head "we didn't stand a chance.

"Well when there was only a few of us left, we decided to call it a day, go into hiding and try to make of life what we could. I, however, didn't make the cut, what with being a little bit different because of my father. So you see me here."

There was a pause before Hermione asked her question.

"But you said you couldn't legally use magic to fight...You-Know-Who."

"Oh yes, yes. Well when the Witches and Wizards removed themselves from Old Magic they broke ties with my people, we swore under oath that we would never again become involved with the problems of others. If I were to break that oath then, well things wouldn't turn out very well for me." Durie took a sip of her tea, smacking her lips appreciatively.

Hermione supposed she couldn't argue with that, as much as she wanted to.

"If you were around when muggles were writing their mythology, then you must be…" Ginny spluttered.

"Very old, yes. Though I don't like to focus on my age too much, can get me down from time to time." Hermione wondered how Durie could ever get down about her age when she looked so perfect.

"Well, we best be off Durie, my dear, got lots to do and not enough hours of the day to do them in." Molly swept up her bag and smiled gratefully at the smaller woman.

"Oh, of course, I am sorry to have kept you so long, wittering on as I do."

They all stood, gathering together behind Durie as she led them down a small corridor, the twins and Ron having to stoop rather alarmingly to be able to fit. It smelt strongly of blossoms as petals fell delicately from the branches, landing quietly at their feet.

"Here we are." Durie said, opening her arms wide to a vined doorway, "This one is Diagon I'm sure of it. If not, just pop right back and I'll send you the right way."

Molly pushed forward, stepping through the doorway first, obviously reluctant to leave the twins alone in Durie's house. She needn't of worried, the twins seemed absolutely enraptured with the doorway and Hermione thought that they would probably try and replicate some if not all of what they'd seen in Durie's house.

One by one they stepped through the door, till Hermione was the only one left. Durie stared at hers, purple eyes seeming to grow dark amidst the falling petals.

"You have the old magic about you. No doubt you will not forget" Her voice sounded different, less airy.

"Erm...I…." Hermione stuttered.

"Do not be afraid, your secret is safe with me." Hermione opened her mouth to explain that she was not afraid, but thought better of it, instead she turned towards the door, hoping that Durie would simply let her leave. She paused though when an image on one of the tree trunks caught her eye.

"What-what's this?" she asked, leaning forward, her heart hammering in her chest. It was a wedding ceremony taking place deep in the wood, Durie's mother easily recognisable as the person overseeing the proceedings.

"Oh it's a wedding that my mother performed, strange couple they were, strange but beautiful. Mom had a bit of a soft spot for them, said they reminded her of her and dad. I blessed them afterwards" Hermione was hardly registering her words because she knew it was them. She would have recognised Edwards dark hair and blue eyes anywhere, and the blonde hair, though trimmed short, was so obviously Mina.

"Where did they go after?" Durie shrugged, leaning forward herself as if seeing the scene again would jog her memory.

"Into the woods I suppose, they were running from something. Never waited to find out if they actually succeeded in outrunning it." Hermione decided not to tell her what she knew of Mina and Edward's story, as far as Durie was concerned they had their happy ending and that was all Hermione had ever really hoped for them. With a sigh, she turned back to the door and twisted the handle.

"Remember where I am, Hermione Granger, most doors lead to me." With that Hermione stepped out onto Diagon Alley, almost bumping into Ron who was peering at the door curiously.

"Where were you?" He asked, trying to glance behind her. "We thought you'd got lost." Hermione shrugged off his concern, linking her arm in Ginny's and following Mrs Weasley past all the shops.

"Strange old bat wasn't she?" Ron muttered, turning to his brothers, who nodded.

"Ronald Weasley that is no way to talk about someone." Mrs Weasley hissed, though she didn't seem to disagree with him. "Durie is a lovely old lady, she didn't have to let us use her home to travel. Plus she's one heck of a gardener."

"I feel like I've…" Ginny muttered.

"Forgotten something." The twins said together, both tapping their chins in confusion.

"You better not have," Mrs Weasley admonished, "We are not going back for it now."

Hermione couldn't believe it, they'd forgotten everything, just as Durie had said. What's more, they remembered the beautiful creature as being an old woman, she wondered if that's what Mrs Weasley had expected when she'd lead them down the alleyway.

Hermione found herself unbelievably grateful that she remembered everything in great detail. Everything about the house, about Durie and her mother and about the wonderful stories she told of the past. Her relief though was mainly due to what she had seen of Mina and Edward.

They had gotten married, the thought circled round her head over and over. It was something so beautiful and wonderful and she was glad that they had found such happiness. Somehow, knowing the ending, made it so much more tragic. What made it all worse was the fact that, now she knew she wanted nothing more than to share it with Draco Malfoy, to pull out the scroll and write to him. Ginny tugged her arm slightly and drew her back to reality, seeing Malfoy wouldn't solve anything she knew that, but it didn't stop her from hoping.


	47. The Newts Tail

"So you and Greengrass then?" Blaise asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and leaning his elbows on the dark oak table.

They had taken refuge in one of their favourite haunts, The Newts Tail after Daphne and Pansy had gravitated towards yet another dress robes store. Theo had simply shook his head and turned on his heel and Draco and Blaise had followed suit. They all knew that Pansy would probably throw a little fit when she found them, but considering how painful the day had already been, Draco thought it was most likely worth it.

The Newts Tail was hidden in a maze of side streets that ran adjacent to Diagon Alley and could only really be found unless you knew exactly where it was you were supposed to be going. They had stumbled across it in their second year when Theo, being the usual idiot that he tended to be, had led them on a wild goose chase proclaiming he had information on a store that sold miniature dragons, dirt cheap. The store had turned out to be nothing more than fifth years making fun of them, but the pub had become somewhat of a safe haven and when Pansy started shopping with them, a much needed safe haven.

The Newts Tail wasn't the most upmarket of places, and some of the clientele (not that it got very many) looked a little on the strange side. But Movgas (the rotund man that owned the place) having been thoroughly delighted by their first visit, always welcomed them with open arms, grinning his toothless grin and pointing them to their regular booth which he always took pains to reserve for them.

"What about it?" Draco queried casually, taking a sip of firewhiskey.

"Well considering, up until recently, you couldn't even stand to be in the same vicinity as her, I think it's a tad strange that you're now practically attached at the lips." Blaise scoffed.

Draco nearly winced but managed to school his features. It was true that, due to Pansy's rather aggressive encouragement, he'd given in to Daphne's insistence of random public displays of affection.

"And while we advocate love in all forms," Theo slid into the booth beside Blaise, " we'd appreciate not to get front row seats to...you know…' Theo made a rather lewd gesture with his hands that made Blaise choke on his own firewhiskey.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Draco asked, ignoring their comments and focusing instead on Theo's strange looking drink. A large cocktail glass stood in front of him, filled with liquid that appeared to shimmer different shades of blue. A small mermaid appeared to be swimming in its depths and every now again her head would pop out the top and tiny clouds of dust would erupt and shower the table.

"It's called Mermaid's Promise." Theo grinned, placing the small pink straw between his lips and taking a sip. "It's really nice, Mo is trying them out, thinks it will get more customers in." Draco shook his head in disbelief.

"You look like an idiot." Blaise nodded in agreement.

"He's got a point. Mo made that?" Blaise tapped the glass and the mermaid waved at him. Theo blushed slightly, taking a long draw from the pink straw before answering the pair.

"Jade did." Draco and Blaise both looked at each other in amusement.

Jade was Movgas' daughter, though no one ever believed it or understood how. Theo had always had a rather large soft spot for the small redhead which had led to some incessant teasing from Draco and Blaise.

"Oh wow, I bet it doesn't even taste that great does it?" Draco asked.

Blaise met his gaze and quickly swiped for the drink before Theo had time to react.

"Blahh, oh my, what in Merlin's name is in that?" Blaise screwed up his face in disgust, sticking his tongue out his mouth and trying desperately to rub off the flavour with his hand.

"A bit of everything." Theo shrugged. "Oh come on it's not that bad." He whined as Blaise continued to make retching noises.

"This coming from the man that eats gnome poo, I think I'll take Blaise's word for it." Theo rolled his eyes, taking another sip before pointing at Draco accusingly.

"I know what you're trying to do Malfoy and it won't wash." Draco tried his best to look innocent.

"I don't know what you're talking about?"

"You sneaky albino, you were trying to distract us with Theo's pathetic little crush, weren't you?"

"Hey!" Theo spat defensively.

"Oh please, she wouldn't touch you with a 7ft wand." Blaise countered.

"And I wouldn't ask her too, I'm not really into that sort of thing." Blaise made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat before pausing.

"He did it again. He did it again and he didn't have to say anything." Theo shook his head slowly.

"You truly are the master of distraction."

"I don't know what you idiots are on about, I've just been sat here." Draco shrugged.

"Which makes a fine change from 'trying to suck Daphne's face off' which, I might add, you've been doing for the most of the day." Draco crossed his arms and pressed his lips together in what he hoped looked like anger.

He hated to admit it but they did have a point. He had been somewhat overdoing it since they'd arrived at Diagon Alley, what with the risk of seeing Hermione, he'd all but shoved his tongue down a willing Greengrasses throat anytime someone with remotely curly hair had wandered past.

"You pair are just jealous." He sneered, shifting uncomfortably as he struggled to believe his own words.

"Of the willing female? Yes, absolutely." nodded Theo, glancing at Blaise for corroboration, which of course he got.

"But Greengrass?" Blaise pulled a face.

"What's wrong with Daphne?" Draco spluttered, she might have been annoying, but as girls went even Draco had to admit she was one of the better-looking ones.

"Oh, it's Daphne now is it?" Theo smirked, shaking his head in a way that told Draco his friends thought he was completely crazy.

"Well, that is her name." He argued petulantly, knowing full well where the conversation was going.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Blaise leaned back against the worn leather of the booth, "but it's not like you've ever used it."

"So what? What would you pair of 'relationship experts' have me do?" Draco raised his eyebrows expectantly at the both of them. "Want me to seduce Mrs Zabini, become lucky husband number...what one we on again?" He casually asked Theo.

"Eight I believe it was." the boy answered quietly, a smirk on his face.

"That's it, lucky husband number eight."

"You leave my mom out of this, ferret," Blaise growled and Draco simply ignored him.

"You never know, if I don't come to a sudden end through some unfortunate unforeseen accident, we might be quite happy."

"Talk about her again Albino and I'll hex that smug look right off your face, magic ban be damned." Draco managed to get control of his laughter, he knew there was only so far he could push Blaise Zabini and he'd about reached his limit.

"I'm sorry mate, but you're mom's…"

"Same goes for you Knott, not a word."

"Okay I take it back, I take it back." Theo waved his hands in surrender.

They all knew where Theo had been about to go with that sentence though. Blaise's mom was something to behold and both Theo and Draco had been utterly enthralled the moment they met her. Added to it was the fact that she was so nice to them all and let them get away with murder. Draco thought it was probably because she'd managed to get away with it so many times, but he kept thoughts like that to himself as Blaise was stupidly protective over her.

"How did we get onto this topic anyway?" Theo glanced at them confused.

"Mr Diversion over there," Blaise growled, pointing accusingly at Draco.

"Damn it, you know I can't resist a good conversation about Mrs Zabini, who we are not going to talk about again, by the way," He quickly added when Blaise's eyes seemed to darken. "Now where were we?"

"Albino and Greengrass, sitting in a tree and drooling all over one another." Draco cut his eyes at Blaise but let him have the dig, he knew it would make him feel better and would probably lead to him forgetting the comments about his mom quicker.

"Ah yes, the complete 180 from, I don't know, every girl you've ever been interested in before." Jade sidled past collecting glasses, shooting a shy grin Theo's way and momentarily distracting him. "She wants me, I'm telling you." He whispered.

"Don't get distracted." Blaise hissed nudging Theo's arm.

"So yes er...what's the deal then?"

"I-I-I don't know, she's different from what I expected," Draco explained, trying to imagine what Pansy would tell him to say, clutching at every available straw and hoping one of them sounded plausible. "She's..she…"

"She prattles." Blaise cut in, tapping the table to accentuate his point.

"What?"

"You know, prattles." Blaise nodded.

"No Blaise, no I don't."

"You know, the constant clack, clack, clack of teeth, as they go on and on and about robes, shoes, makeup...yada, yada, yada, fluttery eyelashes and inane giggling," Theo explained in a bored tone, only managing to turn his head from Jade for a few seconds.

"I can see it's quite the bone of contention with you," Draco muttered sarcastically.

"You think? I mean, what was it earlier." He turned to Blaise who groaned.

"Ursel Rennicks 'wash your hair straight' magical solution. Pop, bang, whizz and beat that frizz."

"Sounds painful." Draco winced.

"Well yes, the conversation was." Blaise nodded sadly.

"Wow." Theo shook his head.

"What?"

"You actually listened."

"Well, I had to didn't I," Blaise said defensively, "Pans kept digging her nails into my arm every time I seemed like I wasn't listening. I'm pretty sure they're going to scar."

"Well that's unfortunate, even I didn't listen." Draco tried to give Blaise a sympathetic look, but couldn't help his shoulders shaking in laughter.

"Of course you didn't you were too busy trying to blow the words back down her throat." Draco glared at Blaise, then at Theo when the young wizard spat his drink across the table and started laughing.

"And it's a shame I didn't succeed by the sounds of it." Draco's tone was sharp and his friends instantly tried to control their laughter.

"Look, the point is," Theo coughed, stifling small chuckles, "why Daphne?"

Draco stared at them for some time, he had no idea what to say. He couldn't very well tell them that she was just a stand-in for Hermione Granger.

"Why not?" He eventually said. "She's not bad to look at and pretty good at the stuff that matters, what more can I say?" Draco realised that he actually had entirely nothing more to say.

"A lot more, a whole heck of a lot more," Blaise stated.

"Merlin, at the risk of sounding like a bunch of girls, Blaise is right. You know me, not exactly picky about personality - why worry about what's between her ears when you can worry about what's between her…"

"Is this going to be one of your long-winded explanations? I have places I need to be within the year.' Draco's stomach gave a little flip when he realised Hermione had said something similar to him. Theo, to his credit, did not even miss a beat.

"Legs. But you, you're a regular cupid." Draco's eyes darkened and Theo raised his hands in defence. "I mean, you have to admit you're pretty picky when it comes to girls, always have been."

"He's right, do you remember Sophia Longbelt." Blaise sighed when both of them gazed at him with absolutely no comprehension of who he was talking about. "Year above us, tall, had brown hair."

Both Theo and Draco shook their heads.

"She had, you know a huge pair of...' Blaise let his head sink into his hand when recognition flickered across both of their faces.

"Ohhh that Sophia, yes I remember them well." Blaise scoffed as Theo looked off into the distance dreamily. "Didn't you make her cry." He suddenly said, looking at Draco.

"Did I?"

"Yes you did, she asked you out and you, well, you didn't say yes." Blaise clarified.

"No, don't remember it." Draco lied, remembering the run in completely. It had been around the time that he had started following Granger with his eyes when he'd started finding excuses to be near her. Sophia had been the victim of his Granger induced fury, he still often caught a glimpse of her as she rushed out of whatever room he had just walked into.

"See you're picky," Theo commented.

"Why does that make me picky?"

"Er.." Theo cupped his hands in front of his chest, looking at Draco pointedly.

"Let's just say that my reasons are my own and leave it at that." He sat back, picking at a tear in the leather of his seat.

"Ever the mysterious," Blaise muttered dryly.

"I bet it's got something to do with slipping her the broomstick." Blaise choked on his firewhiskey and even Draco let out a small chuckle.

"Where do you get these lines?" Blaise asked in disbelief.

"Oh just from the sordid corners of my brain, they're exquisite aren't they? Not many can say they have the talent to make women melt with their words."

"Or hex you," Draco added and Theo smirked.

"Ah to be hexed, the biggest compliment a man can receive. It means you've got under their skin."

"Like a disease." Blaise laughed at his own joke, ignoring Theo's unimpressed stare.

The three boys were quiet for a while, each sipping their drinks happily. Theo seemed to have once again forgotten that he had company and was staring longingly at the red-haired barmaid who was wiping down the bar with a filthy rag.

"You coming to Boden Hill tonight? I have it on good authority that the girls are having a hexed robe competition." Theo asked not even looking at Draco as he spoke.

He was on about Madame Mobels, a performance academy for Veelas. The academy itself was positioned in the middle of nowhere with magical wards set all around it to dissuade any eager males from venturing onto the grounds. Somehow Theo had found that sitting on the top of Boden Hill gave you the perfect angle to gaze through the windows without bouncing off a protective spell. Unable to keep such a find to himself, he'd shared it with a select few and they had an allocated night in the week where they would all make the journey. Draco had been so busy over the holidays that he had not been able to attend even one of the meetings.

"I don't think that's going to happen somehow.' Draco said dryly, wondering who in Merlin's name had fed him such information. "And I can't tonight, I'm busy."

Theo quickly turned to the blonde looking thoroughly disappointed.

"What, but you're always busy." He whined

"Wow, you sounded like Pansy the…" Draco froze when a shrill voice cut him off.

"Who sounded like me?" The boys all turned their heads as one, matching innocent grins plastered across their faces. "Thought I'd find you, idiots, here." Pansy continued, not waiting for an answer.

"I hope that you have brought all manner of wonderful things to regale us with," Theo said dramatically, sliding from the booth and making a beeline for the bar, the tiny mermaid flopping listlessly in the bottom of his empty glass.

"He's a little strange, isn't he?" Daphne commented, watching Theo's progress.

"Hmmm, he only does that when he's got something to hide.' Pansy sniffed, slipping into the booth beside Blaise.

Theo had not told Pansy about his little spot on Boden Hill, knowing full well her feelings on the matter. Words such as creeps and perverts sprung to mind and so the brown haired wizard had decided to keep it between the boys. Pansy, however, had a way of sniffing things out and it kept Knott constantly on edge. Every time he spoke about their secret meetings he would look suspiciously over his shoulder, as if Pansy would be behind him ready blow up in his face, some random piece of damning evidence clutched between her fingers.

Draco forced himself to relax as Daphne slipped into the booth beside him, pressing herself close and pushing her lips against his.

She wasn't a bad kisser, in fact, most of the time it was quite enjoyable. His only issues was that enjoyable was all it ever managed to be. He didn't crave more, he didn't want to pull her closer so he could feel the warmth of her, feel her heartbeat hammering with his own. He remembered what it felt like to kiss Granger, to lose himself completely in it and, no matter how hard he really wanted it to, kissing Daphne never came close to it.

"Merlin, get a room." Pansy hit Blaise for his comment.

"Leave them alone." She hissed.

Draco turned to his friend, lazily raising one eyebrow.

"We have a booth." He commented dryly gesturing around him. When he was met with no argument he turned back to Daphne, a wolfish grin on his face that he hoped looked natural. "Where were we?"

Daphne placed a finger to his lips.

"One moment, Drakey. I'm just going to get a drink." Draco nodded, smiling past the gag reflex that was triggered everything she used that infernal nickname. Oh how he longed for his second name to be spat at him with venom.

"Drakey?" Blaise spluttered, "Did she just call you Drakey?"

"And?" Draco asked, trying to look as though it was the most normal thing in the world for Daphne to have a sickening pet name for him.

"Just makes you sound like a furry animal that's all...ow." Pansy hit Blaise on his arm before flicking her hair off her shoulders.

"Well I think it's sweet." Pansy glared at him daring him to disagree.

"Yes of course, pet names are totally your thing." he answered, sarcastically.

"Maybe they are," Pansy shrugged, leaning towards Blaise, grinning evilly, "Beanie."

The reaction was almost instant, Blaise's dark skin flushed bright red and he turned to look at Pansy in horror.

"Don't call me that." He grumbled, covering the ear she had whispered in and drawing himself as far away from Pansy as he could manage. Pansy laughed, but she seemed just as shocked by Blaise's reaction as he did.

"Don't you like the name, Beanie." she muttered, poking his side, a faint glow on her own cheeks.

"No I don't and for the love of Merlin, Parkinson, stop poking me."

Draco rolled his eyes, not really wanting to be privy to another one of their arguments, they had a tendency to be long winded and anyone in the immediate vicinity ran the risk of being dragged into them. Suddenly though, none of it mattered, because she was there. Of all the places in Diagon Alley she had walked through the door of The Newts Tail, sunlight framing her bushy hair for second, before the door closed behind her and the general gloom of the pub settled around her shoulders. She was with Weaselette and she looked beautiful.

The moment their eyes met he knew that nothing had worked; not Pansy's get-with-Daphne plan, not Snape's lessons and his incessant mantra of ' _forget about her'_. He knew they couldn't have worked because all he wanted to do was cross the room and be with her, hold her, to tell her about all the crazy things he'd been trying to do and tell her they hadn't been working. He wanted to run the pad of his thumb over the crease of worry in her brow and tell her how much he'd thought of her and how much he'd missed her.

"Drakey?" The spell was broken as Daphne said his name. He blinked several times before turning to look up at the blonde in a daze. She was standing just outside the booth holding a glass of firewhiskey towards him a confused look marring her pretty features. Draco turned back to look at Hermione, but she was making her way to another booth, the Weaselette hot on her heels.

"You okay?" Daphne asked, nudging his leg with her own when he didn't answer.

"No..I mean yeah-yes I'm fine just, I just-" he took a deep breath, "-just got distracted by the err..the filth." He couldn't believe how much it hurt to say it about her, he could hear Snape scolding him inside his head, telling him that he would get them both killed with his weakness.

"Hmmm, I did notice that, why are they even here?" Daphne whispered furiously, scowling in the most hideous way towards their table.

"Mo doesn't get that many people come through here, he isn't that picky about who he serves." Blaise said with a shrug. Draco knew Blaise would say that about just about anyone but it still made him angry.

"And gosh, did you see her hair. It was all over the place." Daphne hissed, giggling nastily in Pansy's direction. The brown haired girl only managed a small smile before her eyes flitted to Draco, concern shimmering in their depths.

"She needs some of that Ursel Rennicks solution, that will sort her right out, although I don't think there's a solution for being a know-it-all."

Draco felt his hands curl into fists and anger burnt in the pit of his stomach

"Ow, what you kick me for?" Blaise asked Pansy incredulously, leaning down to rub his leg.

"Sorry I just...I just moved my leg." Pansy spluttered, her eyes meeting Draco's, telling him that the kick had been meant for him.

"Should think you did Pans, I can already feel it bruising."

"Sorry Beanie." She smirked, watching Blaise shuffle uncomfortably.

Daphne was still talking, aiming all her comments in his direction, ignoring the arguing pair opposite them. He didn't want to listen, didn't want to hear all the bad things she was saying about Hermione. He realised with shock that once again Hermione was looking at him. He felt his heart quicken in his chest and Snape's voice scolding him.

" _Forget about her, it's the only way this can end well'_

Panicked, Draco did the only thing he could think of and turned Daphne's head towards him and kissed her.


	48. Confiding in Ginny

"Where are we?" Hermione asked as she followed Ginny, weaving in and out of side streets, the busyness of Diagon Alley falling into a quiet hum behind them. Though she'd visited Diagon Alley several times she'd never seen fit to search the smaller streets that lead off it. Harry had told both her and Ron about his unfortunate adventure to Knockturn Alley and that had seen fit to put Hermione off the idea of exploration.

"Midnight Alley, I've bumped into Professor Trelawney down here a couple of times," Ginny stated, nodding towards a store painted a deep rich blue. The red light emanating from within glowed in the depths of the different sized crystal balls that were on sale. Next to it was Mademoiselle Ophianias huge bay window, every inch of it covered with butterflies.

"She sells potion bottles." Ginny commented when she noticed that Hermione had stopped to stare open mouthed.

"What?" Hermione turned to look at Ginny quickly, sputtering slightly when her hair was blown into her mouth.

"Potion bottles," Ginny clarified, "The butterflies are her friends, apparently they tell her secrets." Ginny twirled her finger next to her ear, suggesting that Mademoiselle Ophiania was not the full ticket.

"Still they're nice to look at." Ginny began to walk away and Hermione took one last look before following her.

"I still can't believe your mom just let us go," Hermione commented and was surprised when Ginny let out a small chuckle.

"Mom knows I wander off anyway," Ginny shrugged, "besides she was trying to keep an eye on Fred and George." Hermione nodded, the twins had seemed somewhat shiftier than normal when they'd arrived at Diagon Alley.

"So you just told her…?"

"I just told her that we needed to chat away from prying ears. Specifically away from extendable prying ears."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware that she would have to explain things in far more detail to Ginny, the very idea of it made her want to turn on her heel and run. She stared at the back of her friends head wondering how she would react. Hermione was pretty certain there'd be shouting, possible denial, most likely anger and not a whole lot of acceptance. Hermione cringed, she had a feeling that their 'girl chat' was not going to go well.

"You think that Ron will be okay?" Hermione asked, stepping gingerly around a puddle, which was slightly suspicious considering the lack of rain. She felt a little guilty for leaving Ron out of the conversation but she still wasn't sure how to be completely honest with Ginny and, as far as Hermione was concerned, between Ron and Ginny, she was by far the most laid back.

"He's fine, he was too busy worrying about what the twins were doing. It wouldn't really have been a good idea for him to have joined us anyway." Hermione flushed bright red when Ginny practically read her thoughts. She noticed that Ginny had a habit of knowing exactly what it was that she wasn't saying and voicing it.

"Ah, here we are." Ginny stopped, peering up at the decrepit sign swinging above their heads. Hermione looked up squinting against the sunlight peering just over the rooftops. The sign was seriously faded, so much so that almost all of the letters were practically indecipherable; all that remained was the image of, what looked like, a scaly worm wriggling about.

"What's that supposed to...oh," Hermione muttered, noticing the brand new gold lettering, shimmering on the side of the building. "The Newts Tail."

Hermione didn't like judging books by their cover, in fact some of the best books had turned out to be the ones that looked worse for wear, but she couldn't help but feeling that the roof, which was sinking precariously in the middle, looked as though it were about to fall in at any moment and she was in no rush to enter.

"Are you sure it looks a bit…"

"Crap," Ginny stated matter of fact, not even trying to defend the establishment. "I know but it's always quiet and Jade, she's the girl that works here, she's pretty awesome."

"You've...you've been here, before?" Ginny grinned at Hermione's disbelief.

"Once or twice," Ginny shrugged, "Fred and George showed me where it was, apparently they have met a few suppliers here."

"Suppliers?" she had to admit that 'The Newts Tail' looked like the type of place Fred and George would meet their 'suppliers' especially if Mundungus Fletcher was among them.

Hermione considered it rather strange that she, Harry and Ron had done all number of weird and wonderful, not to mention dangerous things and yet, they had not managed to explore Diagon Alley in its entirety. Hermione was vaguely aware that there was probably a whole number of beautifully normal things she'd missed out on and the thought made her a little sad.

As soon as they entered Ginny waved at a short, pretty Redhead serving behind the bar. The redhead smiled, her long plait falling off her shoulder as she turned from the boy she'd been talking to and waved at Ginny. Hermione froze when she noticed that the boy was, in fact, Theodore Knott.

"Ah well if it isn't the Weaselette, haven't seen you here for some time." He commented, though not unkindly which made Hermione's eyes widen even further.

"Didn't want to run into you, did I." Ginny bit back, a good-natured smile plastered across her face.

Though the conversation was beyond strange, Hermione didn't hear the rest because her heart was beating too loudly in her chest and blood was roaring in her ears. If Theodore Knott was there then it stood a chance tha...she stopped, her legs almost buckling beneath her when her eyes met a familiar grey stare.

He looked good, better than good and that thought almost made Hermione stumble back in disgust. Had she ever really thought that Draco was handsome? It didn't seem like something that would usually enter her mind, yet it felt so natural as she looked at him. The strange longing that had been niggling at her all summer grew exponentially and she wrestled fiercely with the want to cross the room. She couldn't believe that she wanted to talk to him, to storm across the room and demand an explanation. She desperately wanted to tell him about Durie and her strange home and say that she'd actually missed him.

Hermione almost gagged at the last thought, never, in any way, shape or form had she ever believed it possible that she would miss Malfoy. Celebrate his absence? Certainly, but never miss him.

Hermione blinked several times when Draco turned away, his attention caught by a tall girl stepping towards him, offering him a cup. Hermione would have recognised the perfectly straight, golden hair anywhere.

Daphne Greengrass; even amongst the Gryffindor boys, she was classed as one of the prettiest girls in the school. Hermione had to agree, there was something incredibly stunning about the Slytherin, but she wasn't exactly bright.

Hermione's head tipped in curiosity, wondering why Malfoy had decided to spend time with her now. Sure Daphne was a fellow Slytherin, but Hermione was pretty sure that she'd never seen them spend time together before. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably as Daphne slipped into the booth beside Draco, seeming awfully close, glued to his side close. She shook her head, trying to shrug off the feeling and followed Ginny as she gestured towards a booth, two cups filled with pink liquid clutched in her hands.

"They're here?" Hermione hissed, leaning forward and gesturing quickly to the table where Draco, Pansy, Blaise and Daphne sat, Theo had apparently decided to stay at the bar chatting to Jade.

"They're always here, think it's some sort of tradition," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders noncommittally.

"And they don't..they don't bother you?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded, she had never known a Slytherin pass up the chance to be an arse to Gryffindor.

"Not really, they mostly keep to themselves, if you can believe it. Knott's the only one that really talks to me" Ginny snorted.

"Yeah about that, he wasn't exactly charming, but…"

"I know, he wasn't exactly a dick either. I don't know, I think he likes Jade too much." Ginny nodded towards the bar where Jade was giggling at something Theodore had said and the brown haired boy had a smug smile on his face.

Ginny turned back to Hermione expectantly.

"So…"

Hermione couldn't really hear what Ginny was saying, didn't really want to hear it because her chest was hurting and her stomach was knotting itself uncomfortably. She'd made the mistake of looking back towards Malfoy and he was kissing Daphne Greengrass. Hermione struggled for breath when he tipped his head and deepened the kiss, his eyes opening for a fraction of second to look at her before they fluttered closed.

She couldn't understand it, but more to the point, she couldn't understand her reaction. It definitely shouldn't matter to her who Draco Malfoy kissed, it was Draco Malfoy. But it did, she could feel the tears prickling her eyes, her heart aching in her chest. She'd been certain that Draco kissing her had just been a joke or a reaction to the Sensieve's magic, but when faced with the reality of it, she couldn't help but feel disappointed. She wanted to scold herself almost immediately, because what exactly had she been expecting?

"Hermione?" Ginny asked wondering what was up with her friend, given the paleness of her skin and the wideness of her eyes, Ginny was inclined to believe that Hermione had seen a ghost.

Daphne had looped her arms around his neck, her leg creeping up his lap and that's when Draco's eyes opened again and he was looking at her. Hermione quickly jumped to her feet, rushing from the booth and heading for the only safe haven she could think of, the girl's toilets.

Ginny sat very still for a moment, staring at the empty space that Hermione had just vacated. She knew that getting her to open up wouldn't be easy, but she hadn't even asked any questions before she'd practically had a meltdown.

Shouting behind her made her turn in her seat, her eyes widening as Draco Malfoy stalked across the room towards the girl's toilets, care and concern glimmering in his grey eyes. The sight of it was so foreign that Ginny was sure that she'd imagined it.

"Draco." Pansy was up on her feet calling his name, arm outstretched to grab hold of his sleeve. The blonde jerked away, turning to growl at the brown-haired girl. Ginny was rather impressed when Pansy didn't even flinch, standing her ground.

"Stay out of this Parkinson." Pansy chose to ignore him, grabbing his sleeve and this time managing to hang on.

"You asked me not to, remember?" Pansy hissed it quietly, but Ginny just about caught it, her face contorting in confusion as she watched the spectacle.

"What's going on?" Theo had turned around on his bar stool, his elbows leaning on the bar as he appraised his friends with a bemused smile.

"Draco just wanted to buy me and Blaise a drink and I...I was going to get it." Pansy said quickly, her grip on Draco's sleeve as ironclad as ever. Draco glared at Pansy, but after a moment his shoulders slumped and he slowly nodded in affirmation. Theodore didn't seem to buy the excuse, snorting at Pansy in disbelief before turning back to Jade.

"Aw isn't that sweet." Ginny heard Daphne purr as she made her way to the girl's toilets.

"Yeah, it's precious," Blaise growled back, sounding rather unimpressed.

Ginny quickly turned away, pushing the door to the toilets open, it closed behind her with a loud thud cutting off the rest of the exchange.

Hermione was leaning against the sink, both hands grasping on the porcelain with such ferocity that her knuckles turned white. She was staring at her reflection in the mirror as if she didn't recognise it, tracing the tears down her cheeks as if she hadn't expected them to be there. Ginny felt uncomfortable when she recognised the look from her first year, so many times she'd stared at her reflection and was sure that there was a stranger staring back at her.

"Hermione?" Ginny said quietly, approaching her as though she were a deer and could be spooked at any moment.

Hermione turned slowly, tears still glimmering in her eyes.

"Hermione, what's the matter?" Still, Hermione said nothing, burying her head in her hands.

"You're going to think I'm crazy." Hermione moaned, sniffing forlornly and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"I already know that you are," Ginny said with a grin, feeling a little happier when Hermione offered her a small smile in return.

"What's going on Hermione?" Ginny stood in front of her friend trying to meet her gaze, but Hermione managed to avoid her attempts, instead staring at her lap.

"You wouldn't understand." Ginny gritted her teeth in annoyance. She knew that Hermione didn't mean it, but she couldn't help but feel a little hurt by the statement. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she managed to push the feeling down.

"Try me."

Hermione's shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath of her own, summoning all the Gryffindor courage that she could, trying her best not to think about what Draco Malfoy would say if he knew what predicament she was in.

"You know how I told you about...about someone I was spending more time with?" Hermione asked, fiddling with the bottom of her t-shirt uncomfortably. Ginny nodded, having a feeling that she knew where Hermione was going, just not sure she wanted to quite believe it.

"And that we didn't exactly get along before?" Ginny nodded again.

"Well…" She sighed and met her friends stare for the first time, looking somewhat dejected. ''It's Malfoy."

Ginny didn't move for quite some time, struggling to process the information that Hermione had just given her.

"What?"

"Malfoy...Malfoy is the er...the person I was talking about." Hermione was blushing a deep red, her head lowered in shame.

"You mean the..the guy that's been on your mind, the guy tha-that kissed you, is him?" Ginny whispered, pointing towards the door she'd just come through. Hermione winced, her face crumpling as more tears threatened to spill from her eyes. The sight made Ginny sober somewhat and she rushed forward to hug her friend.

Ginny couldn't believe it had taken her so long to figure it out, all the evidence had been there. Someone that Hermione didn't get on with, the fact that she'd been staring at a tapestry with his name on, her reluctance to tell Ginny who it was and then added to all of that was the fact that Malfoy himself had reacted so strangely only moments before.

"What happened with you two?" Ginny asked tentatively, stepping back when Hermione had stopped sniffing. Hermione's eyes were puffy but Ginny was glad to see that she had stopped crying.

"Argh, this is pathetic. How can I be crying over him." Hermione said in frustration, crossing her arms in anger and glaring at the white tiles behind Ginny.

"I wouldn't beat yourself up too much, I'm pretty sure I've cried over worse things." Ginny consoled, smiling to herself as Hermione gave her a look of disbelief.

"I'm serious when it's the right time of the month I can cry about the fact that my tea's gone cold." Hermione laughed quietly, relaxing a little. It was moments like this that she forgot that Ginny was younger than her.

"I'm so glad you didn't hex me." Hermione sighed and laughed as Ginny's eyes widened in horror.

"Hex you? Who do you think I am?" Ginny paused, tapping her foot absentmindedly on the floor. "Might have considered taking you to St Mungo's to get your head looked at, but only for a second." She added, quickly defending herself.

Hermione's bottom lip wobbled as she let out a small noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. Now that Ginny had mentioned it, Hermione didn't think that going to St Mungo's was such a bad idea, maybe there was something wrong with her.

"Look," Ginny leant on the sink next to Hermione's, " I know that it can't be easy, what with all this being Malfoy related, but-but you can talk to me. It's not like I can judge, I fancied Blaise Zabini in second year." Ginny shrugged.

"You didn't?" Hermione gasped in shock, ignoring the insinuation that she fancied Malfoy, she was almost definitely sure that was not the case.

"I did, but then he told me to bugger off because my hair was melting his eyes." Hermione shook her head, understanding why Malfoy and Blaise were such close friends.

"That's terrible." She mumbled.

"Yeah, well my point is, whatever you say, it's fine. I mean we can't exactly help the way we feel about people."

Hermione felt like screaming. That was her exact problem, it wasn't that she couldn't help the way she felt about Malfoy, it was that she didn't know.

"Honestly there's nothing more to really tell, he kissed me and said it was to do with the Sensieve's magic or other such nonsense and now I see hi…"

"I'm sorry what now?" Ginny interrupted. Hermione's mouth formed an o shape when she realised that she hadn't actually told Ginny that bit.

"Well I suppose...there were some bits I might have left out."

"You think?"

"Okay-okay, I'll tell you everything, it might take a while though." Ginny shrugged, knowing that her mother had planned to buy Diagon Alley pretty much out of stock, so shopping for their essentials just before school would take half the time.

"I don't care how long it takes, Mione, you are telling me every single tiny, little detail." Ginny admonished, walking towards the door and opening it, gesturing for Hermione to walk through.

Hermione didn't know whether she was relieved or saddened when she noticed that the Slytherins had gone, making their escape while she'd been taking refuge in the bathroom.

Once they were sat down Hermione slowly picked her way through the story, sipping her drink (which she found out was called bewitching summer) every so often. It took a while, but eventually, Ginny was filled in on everything.

"Wow." Ginny breathed. It was just like Hermione to find something as crazy as a magical bowl that sucked people in and made them experience memories. She was slightly surprised that she hadn't found it with Ron and Harry as that was the usual turn of events, wherever there was something mysterious going on, the three of them were always present. She might have found it annoying if she wasn't desperate to keep her nose out of such trouble, first year had been more than enough excitement for her.

"I know." Hermione nodded, feeling as though a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"And, and Malfoy blamed this-this magical bowl…"

"Sensieve."

"He said that was why he kissed you?"

"Pretty much." Hermione took another sip of her drink, relishing the taste of berries.

Ginny didn't buy that excuse for one minute, his reaction when Hermione had run off was strange, really strange, he'd seemed genuinely concerned about her.

"And you don't think he's lying about it?" Hermione blushed, shrugging one shoulder as she placed her glass back on the table.

"Well he's with Greengrass now, so I guess he must have been telling the truth."

"Does that bother you?"

"Does what bother me?" Hermione asked, glancing up in confusion.

"You know, him being with Daphne?" Hermione scoffed, but her cheeks turned a bright red.

She knew that she didn't want to be bothered, realised that she shouldn't be. Yes, she and Malfoy had somehow become tentative friends, but that's all they were. The uncomfortable feeling in her stomach still hadn't shifted though and it grew worse every time they were brought up in conversation.

"I don't-I don't know. I mean, it shouldn't should it?" She looked up uncertainly at Ginny.

"Maybe..maybe all the confusing things you feel for Malfoy are-are just reactions to the magic." Ginny's suggested, though she didn't entirely believe it herself, still Hermione seemed eager to latch onto the idea, a spark of hope flashing in her brown eyes.

"I suppose that's a possibility. The book I found on the Sensieve did say it was extremely powerful." Hermione had perked up, excited by the prospect that the answer to all her problems was probably sitting inside a book in Hogwarts Library.

"I have a suggestion." Ginny placed her hands flat on the table and met Hermione's eyes levelly.

"Okay." Hermione sounded uncertain.

"I think you should talk to Malfoy and try to persuade him to carry on visiting the Sensieve."

"WHAT?!" Hermione screeched, quieting slightly when several of the regulars turned to look at her. "What?"

"Hear me out okay?" She said, putting her hands up in defence. "We suspect these feelings are to do with the magical bowl."

"Sensieve, yes." Hermione nodded.

"And the only person you can visit this bowl with is, Malfoy, right?."

"I guess." Hermione nibbled her bottom lip, suddenly realising where her friend was going with her trail of thought.

"So there you have it, you need to keep going to the..the Sensieve to see if the feelings are just to do with the magic, surely once you've found out everything there is to know they'll just disappear." Ginny made it sound as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"But what if it's gets worse," Hermione mumbled, uncertain whether she could take much more of Malfoy's mood swings and the overall mess of feelings she got when she was around him.

"I'll help you. At least you've got me to talk to, right?" Hermione nodded and finished off her drink, staring at a small knot in the oak of the table.

Hermione mulled over how she would feel if the feeling were just the magic of the Sensieve. All she had learnt about old magic told her that it was extremely powerful and volatile at the best of times, it seemed to make sense that it would affect her emotions. A tiny part of her, deep, deep down where she could almost ignore its existence, didn't want it to be magic. Whatever was happening with her and Malfoy, she sort of wanted it to be real.


	49. Godric's Hollow

Draco's spell flew past Snape's head and smashed a vase behind him, the shards tinkling gently against the wooden floor. Snape nodded at him and cast a quick reparo charm, sending all the pieces flying back together, reforming the flowery vase as if nothing had ever happened. Draco couldn't help but feel the object looked slightly out of place in Snape's unkempt house on Spinner's End.

Snape had decided to carry out his lessons at his own home and even though there was much less space to dodge and move about, Draco had to admit that it was preferable to his own home. For one, his mother could no longer pop her head around the door to see if they quote 'needed anything' and he didn't have practically every generation of Malfoy glaring down at him and offering their snorts of utter disgust at how bad he was.

"You're getting better," Snape said so quietly that Draco considered that maybe he'd imagined it. He allowed himself to be at least a little bit proud, he had been practising and the small unicorn had taken to watching him with a sort of curious derision.

"I think we will try the Patronus again." Snape drooled, settling down in a high backed armchair, the rich blue fabric looking almost back in the low light and bits of it were torn and frayed. Draco could tell that Snape didn't take much pride in the upkeep of his possessions.

"What?" Draco asked dumbly, his eyes widening in terror. He'd gotten relatively good at keeping his thoughts well and truly out of Snape's reach, but he knew that casting his Patronus would tell Snape all the things he'd been hiding.

Reading more about the Patronus charm had been eye-opening. His tiny unicorn had trotted to his side and peered at the words as Draco groaned into his hands. It was because of Hermione, he knew it. The reason why his dragon looked so out of proportion was because it was changing, changing to match whatever her Patronus was. The unicorn seemed to find this hilarious, as it neighed rather cutely and snorted up at him.

"I will hex you." Draco had threatened, wincing when the animal had headbutted his finger, it's small horn poking his skin painfully.

"When you've quite finished daydreaming." Snape bored voice cut through Draco's thoughts.

"But...but I thought we weren't doing that?" _Thought we weren't doing that?_ Draco could have cursed at his lame argument, wondering when he'd become so inept at functioning like a true Malfoy.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. The sent a chill down Draco's spine and he shivered slightly, there were times when the mere presence of Snape was enough to make him feel a little uneasy.

"And why, pray tell, would you think that?" Snape lifted his eyebrow as he spoke and Draco stared down at his shoes, he found that the Professor was extremely adept at making him feel puny.

"Well...it wasn't-it wasn't exactly a success last time," Draco commented wanting to curse himself again when he heard his own stuttering explanation. He knew he'd cast the spell perfectly, the problem was his feelings, and if he knew that then Snape definitely did.

"You will cast the Patronus Charm." Snape reiterated, his tone of voice suggesting that there was no room for argument.

Draco sighed lifting up his wand. He had a sneaky suspicion that Snape wouldn't be too happy when he saw his Patronus, but Draco found himself struggling to care all that much. His thoughts a taken a rather surprising, stupidly scary turn. What if he just stopped fighting it? He couldn't really see how him suppressing his feelings was doing anyone any good. Sure there was the Dark Lord to worry about, but he'd been defeated before and, considering that potty was always around to save the day, he figured that the Dark Wizards nefarious plans wouldn't really amount to that much. Plus he couldn't stand not talking to her.

He grimaced when he remembered the way Hermione had looked when she'd run for the bathroom. He didn't want to be the reason she looked like that anymore, the idea of hurting her had actually made him feel a little sick. He'd been out the booth and across the room before he'd even had time to realise that he'd moved. He knew he should have been grateful that Pansy had stopped him, but all he really felt was anger. Why couldn't he tell Granger that he felt something for her? Why couldn't he say that it was weird and crazy and made absolutely not one shred of sense, but he found himself thinking about her constantly? He had to admit, the thought of telling her scared him senseless, but not as much as the thought of spending one more minute pretending to be interested in what Daphne Greengrass had to say.

"Any time this side of Christmas would be fantastic." Snape droned, tapping his fingers against the worn arms of the chair.

Draco took a deep breath drawing, thinking about their visit to Hermione's secret haven, smiling when the image of her gazing up at him, a streak of dust on her cheek, flashed into his mind.

" _Expecto Patronum_." Blue light once again burst out the end of his wand and filled the small room. The dragon had shrunk quite significantly and it looked even less menacing with two round ears either side of its head.

"It's shrunk," Draco commented dumbly. He realised that stating the obvious wasn't going to help the situation and simply offered Snape a rather sheepish smile.

The dark-haired wizard stood so quickly his chair nearly fell back. Reaching into his robes, Snape pulled out his wand pointing it at Draco.

" _Legilimens._ " He shouted it and Draco had absolutely no chance of putting up any defences, he simply shook in horror as Snape filtered through his memories. His recent thoughts of Granger were loud and clear in his mind as if he were thinking them all over again. He rushed to block the wizard out, breathing heavily when Snape's presence retreated from his mind. The older wizard did not look happy.

"Have you learned absolutely nothing?" Snape hissed, his anger practically crackling in the air around him. Draco felt his own anger flare.

"Oh I've heard everything loud and clear, don't do this, don't think that, don't like a girl because my Professor says so." He bit out sarcastically.

"Though you don't deserve it, these things have been said to you for your own good. If you actually listened they stand a chance of keeping you safe." Draco snorted in derision.

"Why do you care?" Snape seems taken aback by the question but narrowed his eyes and carried on.

"It would seem that there isn't very much point, but in answer to your question, it is not me that cares, but your mother."

"What does she know about any of this?" Draco said, not quite able to keep the panic out of his voice. If his mother knew then there was a good chance that his father would find out and he really didn't want to think about how his father would react.

"Nothing, but she wants to keep you safe. I'll let her know how grateful you are." Snape drawled sarcastically, crossing his arms.

"Safe?" Draco scoffed. "Safe? From what? From my feelings?" He shouted in Snape's face.

"You know exactly what your mother is trying to keep you safe from," Snape said in a warning tone.

"What if I don't want to be safe?" He felt as though the walls were closing in around him making it hard to breathe. "What if I don't want any of this? What if I just want to be with her?" His eyes widened when he realised what he'd said, then widened even further when he realised he meant it. With this new realisation, he met Snape's eyes defiantly.

"You can't," Snape said simply and Draco's mouth dropped open.

"You can't tell me what to do." Draco scowled, trying to step around Snape. The wizard moved and blocked his way.

"Whatever it is that you feel for Miss Granger, you need to forget it."

"What if I don't want to?"

"YOU MUST." Draco jumped when Snape shouted in his face.

"Why?" He scowled digging his hands into his pockets, trying to appear calmer than he felt.

"You would not be safe the Dark Lor…"

"I don't care about the Dark Lord." Draco spat, leaning back against the wall. "I don't care about any of his ideals, or what he wants." Snape put his hand on Draco's shoulder, Draco looked at it then back at the dark-haired wizard.

"You would do well to keep such thoughts to yourself."

Snape stepped back when Draco nodded and sighed heavily.

"What happens when the Dark Lord puts his plans into motion and you're are caught between his wishes and a mudblood?" Draco bristled, not liking the fact that Snape had used such a word to describe Hermione, even though he'd used it himself several times.

"I'll deal with it somehow." Draco shrugged. He had no idea how he would deal with it, but he didn't want to focus on that, all he wanted to think about was Hermione Granger and the fact that Snape could not keep him from telling her how he felt.

"It won't work. Whatever plan you formulate, no matter how much you try to keep her safe, none of it will work." Snape said sadly, shaking his head.

"And what do you know? Huh? How can you possibly know what will happen?"

Snape stood very still for a while staring at Draco coldly. Suddenly, he turned on his head and left the room, his black robes billowing behind him. Draco's hands shook as he relaxed his shoulders, only just realising how tense he had become during the exchange. He supposed that he had won the argument, considering Snape's departure and allowed himself a small, shaky smile.

He would tell her how he felt. He would tell her how he felt and deal with the consequences and hope that she would, at the very least, not try to hex him.

Draco jumped as the door banged open and Snape stormed back in, a pensieve floating behind him. The ball settled down on a round table in the corner of the room, a faint mist rising from the top.

"What's that for?" Draco asked, confused.

"Come here," Snape said simply, refusing to look at the boy.

Hesitantly Draco moved to stand beside Snape peering down into the Pensieve, the contents of it moved like a liquid, shimmering as it swirled. It reminded him of the Sensieve and instantly his thoughts turned back to Hermione.

"What you are about to see no person has ever seen before," Snape said slowly, waving his wand over the top of the bowl till the mist cleared. Snape gestured for Draco to look and after only a brief hesitation lowered his head into the bowl.

He felt like he was falling, the small room in Snape's dingey home falling away. When his feet landed on solid ground he was standing in the middle of a street, quaint little cottages lined either side of him. He had no idea where he was and glanced around quickly wondering why exactly he was there. The sky was inky black and there was an uneasy silence in the air as if something terrible had just happened.

Draco jumped when Snape came running past him, his hair much shorter and a look of panic marring is features. Draco wondered what memory Snape would have felt the need to show him, his father had often told him that Snape had been one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers, so he guessed that he must have seen and done some dreadful things. Perhaps Snape hoped to scare him into listening.

Snape ran into a house whose door was hanging open and Draco rushed in after him. The walls were lined with pictures of a man and a woman, they smiled happily and laughed together. Draco stopped at one of the two of them dancing, the woman's red hair glowing in the setting sun as she tipped back her head and laughed. The man, Draco though, looked strangely familiar though he couldn't tell why.

He felt dread fill his gut when he noticed the man's lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs. His wide open and staring. Snape gave him a passing glance as he stepped over him.

"No, no, no, no, no." He repeated it over and over in panic as he took the stairs two at a time.

Draco paused mid-step when he heard the wai. He recognised the sound of pure grief from his experience of Edward's memories. Edward had screamed that way when he'd seen Mina burn and Draco could not forget the feeling that accompanied it as if his very being was being ripped out of his chest. He remembered the desperation and the helplessness as he watched the woman he loved being torn from him and could do nothing about it.

Draco's couldn't believe the sight that met him when he walked along the hallway and entered the last room. Snape was cradling the lifeless body of the woman from the picture, sobbing into her red hair pitifully, a child was wailing in the cot behind them.

"I'm sorry." He blubbled, clutching onto her as if he was certain it would bring her back to life. "I'm so sorry. Come back to me." The younger Snape begged, his tears wetting her pale face. The child carried on wailing and Snape carried on crying and begging for the woman to wake up and return to him. Draco found himself grateful that he couldn't feel the emotions as it looked as though Snape's world was falling apart behind his eyes.

Quickly the scene disappeared and Draco was back in Snape's small room, an older, less emotional Snape staring at him down the length of his hooked nose. He looked incredibly worn at that moment, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"What...what was that? Where did I go?" Draco said, glancing between Snape and the Pensieve.

"Godric's Hollow," Snape replied, his hands gripping the table till his knuckles turned white.

"That night the Dark Lord set in motion his plan to be rid of anyone that could stop him." It took Draco a rather embarrassingly long time to realise what he was talking about. He understood now why he recognised the man in the picture.

"Potter." He spat.

"Yes, the memory you saw was.." Snape didn't finish, but he didn't have to, Draco understood.

Snape had been in love with Harry's mother and he had tried to protect her.

"You understand now," he said quietly, "you understand why you cannot allow your feelings for Miss Granger to lead anywhere? You will never be safe, _she_ will never be safe."

Draco stared down into the curling misty liquid of the Pensieve, his heart hurting. He knew Snape was right, he couldn't put Granger in danger like that, no matter how he felt about her. Draco nodded slowly.

"I understand."


	50. Longing

As courtyards went, the one that sat at the centre of Malfoy Manor wasn't anything special. In fact, Narcissa would have gone as far to say that the square garden was a bit on the small side; especially when compared with some of the grand designs that she'd come across over the years of being married to Lucius. Some purebloods took their status as a competition to other purebloods, declaring all-out war in the decoration department. Narcissa knew this because she was one of them, or rather had been one of them.

Her garden though was her own and she liked to think that she'd created a little bit of paradise in the middle of such a grand home. She'd always found that no matter how much finery she sunk into the grand manor, none of it ever seemed to blunt the cold edge that permeated the stone walls. Her garden though remained free from the cool grasps of Malfoy Manor, with its pebbled pathways weaving between flowerbeds bursting with colour and converging toward a fountain at the centre. The fountain had been her own design; two mermaids locked in an embrace, their tails meeting to form the base where crystal clear waters collected, glinting in the son as exotic fish swam in its depths. The small smile that had grown on her face faltered when she noticed the stone cherub kicking back in the water, lazily plucking its lute as it sunned itself. The chubby stone annoyance had been a gift from Sephina Zabini, another one of her apparently heartfelt gifts that Narcissa swore was a joke.

Narcissa's heart ached with longing as she remembered when Draco was younger. His golden hair glinting in the sun as dodged between the flowerbeds, his laughter ringing off the stone; the way he would trail his fingers in the water of the fountain, giggling with delight when a fish swam closer, mistaking his pudgy fingers for worms. Her shoulders lifted with a sigh, they had been simpler times, simpler times she wished she could return to. But she knew it was pointless, the world always crept in and everything innocent and good always fell in its wake.

"Mother?" Narcissa turned quickly in shock, almost losing her footing.

"Draco." she breathed, placing her hand over her heart as she rushed forward to meet him, sadness tugging at the corners of her mouth when turned away, wandering through the garden till he stopped before the fountain. He had always stated that it was ridiculous to have such unrealistic depictions in their home, but she knew that it was just for his father's sake. Whenever he had visited the garden he would stare up at the fountain for hours, his eyes drifting over each and every detail.

"Mother I need to...I need to speak with you." Narcissa nodded, moving to step beside him. "It's important."

"Of course." She clarified, touching the top of his arm gently. He'd gotten so tall, she wondered how these changes happened so quickly. She'd hardly had any time at all with him and already he was turning into a man before her eyes.

"Why do we follow the Dark Lord?" He asked quickly, turning to meet her gaze. She realised, with shock, that she could find no trace of the coldness his father had tried to beat into him. Its absence left him somewhat unrecognisable.

"Pardon?" She found herself asking, though she'd heard every word.

"The Dark Lord, why...why do we follow him? Isn't there another way?"

"What other way?" Narcissa heard her voice shake.

"I mean…" Draco seemed to struggle over what he wanted to say. "What is the Dark Lord really offering us?"

Narcissa stared at the small stones beneath her feet, she knew there was a reason why she and her husband had followed the Dark Lord the first time, she knew that there had been talk of purebloods taking their rightful place among witches and wizards, of removing the stain of mudbloods and reclaiming the earth. She knew she must have believed it at some point, but it seemed like such an age ago.

"He is offering us a chance to take back what is ours." She tried to say it with conviction but she knew she'd failed when Draco gave her an incredulous look.

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"What else could I possibly believe?" Narcissa asked cautiously.

"That he's lying, that really all he cares about is power. That the world really is fine as it is and he's just making things worse." The slap was loud and it froze Narcissa in place. She could feel the sting of contact burning her palm and her eyes widened as she watched a red mark bloom on her son's face. He was just as shocked as she was and Narcissa took the chance to grasp her son's face in her hands. Her vision blurred with tears but she blinked past them, her voice shaking as she spoke.

"Now, you listen to me.." Draco moved to pull away, but she held firm. "Listen, this is important." She took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, "we must do what the Dark Lord says."

"But.."

"We must. If we don't we will be the first people that he kills and he will kill us all. He will kill your father, he will kill me and then, oh sweetie," she caressed his cheek gently with her thumb, her heart aching with the truth of her words, "he will kill you too."

"But what if we, what if we worked against him. We could join the people who want to fight him." Narcissa almost scoffed at Draco's words, they were desperate and innocent and showed his age completely.

"You think they would accept us. Your father's involvement with the Dark Lord is no secret, they would sooner see us fall with the Dark Lord than take us into their care."

"You don't know that some of them….some of them might not care about what came before." The way Draco spoke made Narcissa think that there was possibly one person he had in mind, she eyed him suspiciously.

"They will always care and they will always treat us differently because of it." Draco stared down at his feet looking as lost as she felt. "As long as we are together we are safe."

"We aren't safe, he will kill us just as easily no matter what side we are on."

His grey eyes burnt with fury and determination and Narcissa realised that somehow, she was losing her son. Once upon a time, she would have wished for the mask of indifference to fall and for her to see such fury and determination, now though it scared her.

"If you stand against him, he will kill you." Draco shrugged.

"I'd rather die than cower on my knees and watch him destroy the world." Narcissa watched him as he began to walk away, certain that there was something he wasn't saying.

"You would not turn your back on your father." Draco steps seemed to falter, but he did not stop walking away. "Would you turn your back on me?" At this Draco froze, his shoulders stiffened as he turned to face his mother.

"Mom, don't…"

"If you go against this family, you go against me, would you fight me?" She knew she was manipulating him, twisting his arm till he couldn't move from the pain, but if he went against the Dark Lord's wishes there was no way that she could protect him.

"If the Dark Lord finds that you've turned your back on him, that you've thought about turning your back on him, he will destroy all that you care about." Her son's face contorted in fear and it made her heart squeeze. She wanted nothing more than to take those fears away, for him to be the small child that laughed in the garden and had no worries and cares.

"But.."

"Everything you care about."

"But I could...someone could stop him." Narcissa almost laughed but managed to restrain herself.

"No son, no one can stop him."

Draco stared at the ground for some time, his eyes flitting backwards and forwards as if searching the pebbles for some form of an answer. He looked up suddenly, his shoulders straightening, his eyes a dull grey as he nodded.

"I understand." He quickly turned, his shoulder stiff as he walked away. Narcissa quickly followed him, unable to keep herself from voicing her concern.

"Draco, Draco sweetheart you won't.."

"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. I am a Malfoy and I always will be." Narcissa thought she would feel relief at hearing those words, but a coldness filled her and made her shiver. He had sounded like his father, mask firmly set in place, eyes giving nothing away but their greyness. Even as he spoke of his loyalty, even as he told her that he would remain close, she felt her little boy slipping through her fingers and disappearing into the darkness of the world.

Draco stared at the side of the Hogwarts Express with a ferocity that could have melted a hole in its side. His mother's words had been bouncing around in his head along with the memory Snape had shown him. He wondered, not for the first time, how Granger made 'being good' look so easy, as every time he even attempted to put a foot in that direction he was met with resistance.

Draco gritted his teeth scuffing his feet against the red brickwork of the platform. Merlin only knew what the right thing was. His mother wanted him to believe it was following in his father's footsteps, towing the line til such a time that the Dark Lord was either no longer all-powerful, or had taken over the world and they were all his merry slaves, shuffling about doing his evil bidding. And what if somehow super specs did manage to save the entire wizarding world? Knowing his parents they'd probably feign imperius and wax lyrical about their terrible ordeal, they'd done it before.

Draco glanced at his parents, they were mumbling to one another, their heads pressed close together. He knew they were talking about his lessons with Snape, wondering whether or not to allow them to continue throughout the school year. As per his mother was desperate for him to learn all that he could from the dark-haired Professor, his father, on the other hand, wanted to ensure that his son brought honour to the Malfoy name by succeeding at school and he saw his lessons with Snape as some sort of distraction.

Draco almost laughed, if only his father knew. The lessons were an incredible distraction that kept sending his mind wandering back to Granger. Without doubt, his Patronus kept changing and Snape kept delving into his memories, calling back things that he tried with all his might to keep buried. The professor was another one pushing him to do what he considered to be the 'right thing', it just so happened that his idea of right was keeping away from Granger and pretending that the last year hadn't happened. This plan was almost as laughable as him trying to be good and it made him seriously question the Professor's credentials. How on earth Snape expected him to keep away from Granger was beyond him; she was persistent, strong, stupidly brave and didn't like to let things go, no matter how much he encouraged her to drop the subject.

Then there was Granger herself; the bushy-haired bit of gravity that seemed to draw his attention no matter how much he tried to ignore her, sucking him back into orbiting all her little schemes. She'd banged on before about goodness and making the right choices, but as far as he could see choices didn't exist, they were just this grand illusion, snatched away from him just before he could wrap his fingers around them. He supposed she wanted him to hop skip and jump into Dumbledore's waiting arms and leave his parents to suffer the unfortunate fate of a slow and agonising death. He could say a few words, all bleary-eyed at their funeral, maybe spend the rest of his years summering at the Burrow.

He shivered as the mental image became too much of a reality, turning to his father, realising that he'd been spouting his usual nonsense about 'upholding the family name'. Draco had heard it so many times that he had it practically memorised, just about stopping himself from mouthing along. His mother was staring at him with her usual worry and concern and it made his cheeks burn with anger. He knew he shouldn't blame her for worrying about him and trying to keep him safe, but he couldn't help it. He hadn't really considered how the conversation with his mother would turn out, but resulting in a huge resounding nothing was farthest from his mind, right up there with his mother ever slapping him. The position of slapping Draco had been held, with a certain amount of pride, by his father. He wondered sardonically how his father would actually react knowing that his position was being challenged.

"Black." Lucius hissed suddenly, pausing in his tirade to glare daggers over Draco's shoulder. Draco swivelled round noticing the boy wonder almost immediately, a huge black dog jumping up to him appearing to give him an awkward hug.

"I should alert the authorities," Lucius muttered in a forthright tone.

"And what good will that do? He will be hidden away faster than it takes those bunch of idiots to even process the information."

Draco stopped listening to his parents as his blood roared in his ears. She was looking at him, her brown eyes meeting his across a busy platform. He gulped as the feeble longing returned. If he wasn't a Malfoy, if only she were a pureblood if only all the stupid things his father spent his whole life beating into him didn't matter and it was just them.

"Draco?" He jumped, turning to blink at his mother, wide-eyed. "Are you okay?" She asked, looking over his shoulder with curiosity.

"I'm fine, I'm...I just want to get going."

"Yes, I think it's time you boarded." Lucius sniffed, nodding once to his son before turning on his heel and walking away, his cane punctuating every other step.

"Draco, please remember what I told you." His mother quickly hissed, grasping his arm in a furious grip, her eyes all but begging. He wondered how he could have ever thought that his parents were strong. How could he have idolised his mother for her garden of colour in the midst of all the grey, when she was just as bad as his father.

"Bye mother." He mumbled, turning to board, glancing longingly at Hermione one last time before clambering onto the train and moving to find his usual compartment.

There were many things she knew she failed at as a mother; letting her son down was one, dragging him kicking and screaming into danger was another. Still, as many things as she did wrong, there were some things that she did exceptionally well, the main one being; knowing her son.

She knew his eyes, their dark grey when he was angry, she knew his hair, how it felt soft and downy when it had just dried, she knew the way he glanced at his feet when he danced, still unsure of the steps and she knew every single expression that had ever made it was onto his face.

Narcissa did not register the noise of the train as it began to pull away, too lost in the realisation that had knocked the air out of her lungs. She had never seen him look that way before, but she recognised it. It had been plastered all over Snape's face when he was younger, pining after Harry Potter's Mother, she'd seen it in her sister's eyes when she'd first met the man that would become the Dark Lord, she'd seen it in her own eyes when she'd glanced out the window to freedom. It was longing.

The train had gone and Narcissa stared at the empty space. She needed to talk to Snape if anyone could confirm or deny it would be the wizard. The possibility of it being true filled her with dread. He wondered how much more the impending war would take away from her son before it was satisfied.


	51. Prefect Duty

Time seemed to have fled by and they were well into, what was turning out to be a truly monstrous term. The ever pink and proper presence of Umbridge had everyone wishing they were anywhere else but Hogwarts. Even Hermione, who usually found the good in every situation relating to studying, found herself whimsically thinking of being elsewhere.

Added to the annoyance of Umbridge was the annoyance of Draco Malfoy who had, quite expertly, avoided all her attempts to broach a conversation with him. There was only so many occasions of being victim to his ferrity aversion tactics she could stand before she had given up altogether. Though it bugged her, she figured there was nothing left for them to talk about, especially considering that the Sensieve hadn't made its appearance since they'd arrived back at school. Though its silence bothered her, Hermione figured that they must have seen all it had to offer, even if all it had to offer did feel a little disappointing and premature.

A major plus, however, was that her lack of contact with the blonde and the ever confusing magic of the Sensieve had meant that, whatever feelings she'd been experiencing, had taken a back seat to the other more pressing matters the year was throwing her way. They cropped up every now and again when she caught him staring at her, or when her mind wandered back to the previous year, or even when she saw Draco and Daphne secreted up some random corner of the castle exchanging saliva. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd spotted them canoodling when she knew full well he should have been doing rounds of the school. All her attempts to chastise them for their tardiness had been dodged by Draco spotting her and, predictably, running in the opposite direction.

Hermione sighed as she rounded the corner making her way along the corridor and checking each an every classroom. She was supposed to be on duty with Draco for the whole week but she'd gotten so fed up with chasing him that she figured trying to find him for perfect duty would be counter-intuitive. Plus, she could almost guarantee he was off somewhere with Daphne, no doubt too busy searching the back of her throat to give Hermione a passing thought.

Hermione's stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought and she gritted her teeth reminding herself that he was a pompous git who was mean to first years and ignored her existence. Hermione nodded to herself, remembering the fiasco of getting the first years across the lake; he'd been nothing but an arse to anyone that had come within a few feet of him, completely ignoring any and all of the duties they'd been briefed on during the train journey. How he and Pansy had managed to achieve their roles as Prefects was beyond her.

Hermione's musings were interrupted quite abruptly by the sight of the boy himself, leaning against the wall, hands dug in his pocket and head down as he stared at his shoes. He was alone; he hadn't been alone since they'd come back to school, always with Daphne or Pansy, always sneering. Now though he seemed sad, the weight of whatever bothered a rich pureblood weighing down on his shoulders.

Hermione swallowed wondering why her heart had begun to race and why she desperately felt the need to talk to him, to ask him if he was okay and get rid of the frown that was furrowing his brow. She had the sudden want to see one of his rare and genuine smiles, the ones she'd seen with scary regularity over the holidays. Embarrassingly she'd found herself craving them, thinking a little too much about how they dimpled his cheeks and made him look...

She cleared her throat gently biting back a laugh when he jumped out of his skin, pushing off the wall and standing to attention, grey eyes wide at the sight of her. He turned away quickly and Hermione almost rolled her eyes at how predictable he had become. Suddenly though he stopped, his shoulders slumping heavily as he slowly turned his head, his grey eyes meeting hers.

"Hey." He mumbled and Hermione's breath caught, the Sensieve's magic shivering across her skin and choking the air around her. It made her dizzy, delirious, happy and for some reason overwhelmingly angry.

He wasn't going to. He'd made up his mind. No matter how much he missed her, no matter how much he shamefully craved her company he would not go and meet her for their prefect duty. She could do it alone, she was more than capable, a regular paragon of prefects. She wouldn't need his help let alone want it. He'd simply told Pansy that he'd be spending his evening with Daphne and then proceeded to tell Daphne that he needed a walk because...reasons. Reasons that had entirely nothing to do with Granger. If he happened to run into her on his 'walk' well then he'd turn the other way, 'get out of there' as Pansy had so eloquently advised. He definitely wouldn't talk to her.

It wasn't like he wanted to see her, wasn't like he spent every minute of every day thinking about her. He definitely didn't imagine that his blonde girlfriend had brown bushy hair and brown eyes. Absolutely not.

Draco groaned into his hands and fell back against the cold stone. He'd done so torturously well at avoiding her and everyone was so darn chuffed. Snape had stopped admonishing him for memories of Granger, Pansy had stopped squawking so much and forcing him into the arms of Daphne had become somewhat of a thing of the past. Even Daphne had somehow become less clingy which in itself was a miracle. It was all going wonderfully to plan but Granger was always there. Always in his head with her smile, her laugh, her stupidly soft lips. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd thought of giving in and talking to her.

He leant his head back digging his hands into his pockets. The Sensieve hadn't made any sort of appearance, in fact, it had been quite conveniently absent leaving just enough gap for Draco to realise how utterly screwed he was. All the feelings were his own, all the cravings and the longings, they were all compliments of Draco Malfoy. No help whatsoever needed from the old jewel encrusted bowl. He was so royally screwed.

He gazed down at his shoes watching the reflection of the torch flicker in the expensive leather. Longing stung in his chest and he angrily blinked away tears that were prickling in his eyes. He couldn't help but be in complete awe of the patheticness of his own messed up feelings. Even if he did happen to run into her he had no clue what he would say to her.

He supposed he could tell her the truth, blab it all into her face and hope that she would smile and tell him that she felt the same. They could blow the Dark Lord into nothingness and fly off into the sunset like two soddin heroes, happily ever after written in the clouds above their heads. Draco was about to groan again when the sound of a throat being cleared had him jumping out of his skin.

She was there. She was actually there, stood just a little way from him, her brown eyes shimmering in mild amusement. She was beautiful and incredible and he definitely wasn't moving like he said he would. He was going to run, he had to run. Bad things would happen if he didn't, there'd be talking and that would lead to...he gave up, shoulders slumping as he dropped all the heaviness and turned to look at her.

"Hey." The brilliance of his words had him blinking owlishly. Only Merlin knew why Granger wasn't grovelling on the floor before him.

"Is that it?" she snapped quickly, her chin lifting in the air as she crossed her arms.

"Erm...hey Granger?' He offered, smirking slightly "That is usually the etiquette for greeting someone, isn't it?"

"That depends on whether or not you've been ignoring that someone for several weeks," Hermione commented dryly, her eyes giving nothing away.

"Ahh, I wondered whether you'd mention that." He said airly, trying desperately to shrug it off as no big deal but he could tell that Hermione was having none of it.

"I bet you did." The words were spat from between gritted teeth and Draco flinched at the venom. She really wasn't happy with him.

"So are you going to explain yourself?" Hermione continued giving him an appraising look that had him feeling about three feet tall.

"I kind of thought I already did." He realised as soon as he'd said it that it probably was not the best thing to say.

"In what crazy made up world did you ever explain anything?" Hermione whispered furiously stepping towards him. He watched her hair bounce with each step, the sight of it somewhat hypnotising. He found himself wondering if it still smelt of strawberries.

"All you did was kiss me then run away and then ignored me." Her mention of the kiss had him thinking about it all over again. He quickly turned his head, hiding his reddening cheeks behind a scowl.

"You going to keep banging on about that, Granger? I told you, it was something to do with the Sensieve. Don't worry I don't find you irresistible." He cleared his throat as the lie seemed to get stuck making it a little difficult to breathe.

"Well thank you for clarifying that fact, now I can stop pining for you." Hermione bit back sarcastically, turning on her heel and walking away.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked slightly panicked, he didn't want her to leave just yet not when they were finally talking.

"To do my rounds." She stated simply neither turning to him or slowing her pace.

Draco followed her quickly, jogging slightly till he fell into step with her. She looked up at him quickly a scowl marring her features

"What are you doing?"

"Come now Granger, prefect extraordinaire doesn't know what prefect duty looks like?"

"I know what it looks like, I just don't understand why you're doing it with me." Draco was momentarily distracted by all the other things he wanted to do with Granger, he blinked past them hurriedly and smirked down at her.

"Aren't we partnered on this weeks rota?"

Hermione sighed and came to a standstill making Draco pause mid-step and look at her curiously.

"You know you can't just do this." She suddenly stated glaring up at him.

"Can't do…"

"You can't just keep expecting me to pretend like you aren't a prat." Draco gritted his teeth and glared at the wall in front of him.

"I thought you didn't expect me to be anything but." He clarified enunciating every word slowly, anger shaking each syllable.

"You know that...you know that stopped being…" Hermione stopped a million thoughts running through her mind before her head once again snapped up and she pinned him with her anger.

"Why do I have to explain myself to you?" Draco began to shake his head but Hermione didn't let him speak, marching forward and poking a finger into his chest like she'd done so many times. He almost hit himself when he found himself relishing the contact, the feel of the Sensieves magic around each stab achingly familiar.

"Why do I have to explain anything to you, you're the one that ran away, you're the one that ignored me."

"I was embarrassed okay." He shouted, wincing when his words echoed back to him.

"What?" Hermione looked confused, her finger pausing mid poke and her head tipping to one side slightly.

Draco ran his hand over his face hoping to buy himself some time if he was going to be able to spend any time with her at all he would have to lie and lie good.

"Look, that...the err...the thing, it wasn't supposed to happen and it just made everything weird." Hermione stepped back slightly, her face no longer contorted in anger which he took as meaning she was believing him a little bit.

"And then every time I saw you I knew you'd want to talk about it, want to dredge it all up because, let's face it, you can't let anything go."

"Well, I'm sorry that my curiosity is an inconvenience to you." Hermione spat

"There's curiosity Granger and then there's obsession."

"Obsession? You really think that you're that important that I'd obsess over you?" Hermione scoffed walking around him completely clueless as to why she ever found him attractive.

"Granger, wait."

"How about no." Hermione flung over her shoulder.

"Will you stop being childish?" He grabbed her wrist and Hermione wrenched it free.

"You're a fine one to be accusing others of being childish, Mr-I'm-going-to-ignore-you-because-I'm-embarrassed."

"Granger will you just…" He went to grab her wrist again missing by a fraction.

"Well, congratulations you don't have to worry about any of that anymore because I've had enough of your crap." Hermione singsonged, the sound of her shoes stomping against the stone the only indication that she was fuming.

"What does that mean?" Draco pulled her to a standstill, holding onto her tightly as she struggled to get free forcing her to look at him.

"It means that I've had enough of this," she gestured between them, "whatever this is. I've had enough of you going in moods for no apparent reason, I've had enough of trying to work out why exactly you seem to hate me so much. The Sensieve hasn't shown up so I'd say that our business is offi...what?" Draco wasn't looking at her anymore instead he was fixated on something happening over her shoulder. Hermione turned and almost groaned audibly. The corridor was changing, green pillars replacing the white stone of the castle, mist silently rushing toward them.

"You were saying?"

Whatever comeback Hermione had shouted back at him was lost in the mist as they were both pulled back into the memories of Mina and Edward.


	52. Crucio

Hermione found herself disorientated, the light of the flickering torches suddenly being replaced by the silvery light of the orb hovering above Mina's head as she slowly made her way down a winding stone staircase. The walls were damp beneath her fingertips and instead of the gentle quiet of Hogwarts at night, Hermione could hear the drip of water and murmurs that seemed to be coming from behind her in the darkness.

It had been so long since she'd experienced Mina's emotions and the rush of fear that clashed with her anger left her reeling a little. Hermione didn't know whether she was relieved or annoyed by the Sensieve's sudden appearance; it was true that Mina and Edwards's story hadn't felt finished, but her precarious friendship with Malfoy certainly had and she'd almost made her peace with that.

Quickly Mina's thoughts drowned out her own, the murmurs becoming moans and cries that made the hair on her arms stand up in fright. Mina knew the dungeons from long ago when she, Sonyea and Arden had all been children and they had stood empty. They'd frightened her then, now they filled her with a dread that almost stilled her in place. Mina took several deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart. She knew she had to this; contact with the other witches and wizards had petered out into nothingness since Sonyea's death and it had made Mina feel entirely useless, the only thing that had kept her from feeling completely like a prisoner was her frequent meetings with Edward.

Mina felt her resolve return as she thought of him, a soft smile playing on her lips. Hermione flushed as memories of Edward and Mina together flickered before her eyes; their lips desperate and searching as they clawed at clothing, her skin burning as he traced every inch of her, the feel of his scars beneath her fingertips...mercifully the thoughts ended abruptly when another cry pierced the darkness, making Mina jump into action.

She reached the bottom of the stairwell, any torches that could have been lit were left cold and unused against the walls. Mina scanned the cells either side of her, watching as people shied away from the light of her orb, shielding themselves and cowering in various filthy corners. Mina felt tears burn in her eyes at the sight of them, many of them were injured, some dead and other rocked back and forth as she passed, their vacant eyes seeming not to see her at all. The air was putrid with faeces and rotting flesh and the poison of it burnt her lungs and turned her stomach.

"Mina?" A voice called from within the darkness, filthy fingers curing around the iron bars. Mina blinked several times, hardly recognising the pale and pallid face before her.

"Lady Greengrass?" Mina asked uncertain, the figure before her squinted its eyes holding a shaking hand up to its face.

"The light." Mina quickly dimmed the light, turning back, her mouth opening and closing in disbelief as she took in the once proud womans sunken cheeks and matted hair.

"Water?" Lady Greengrass croaked, her shaking hand reaching expectantly through the bars. Mina quickly muttered a spell, her small pouch transforming into a waterskin bursting with water. Lady Greengrass grasped it fiercely with desperate fingers and guzzled down the contents greedily. Without so much as a word she passed it to someone in the cell behind her and turned back to Mina, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"What are you doing here? I ..I thought you were with the other remaining council members." Mina began and the lady sighed, her eyes closing and hair falling across her face in dark, greasy strings.

"Not many of the council members survive." Mina felt as though a weight has been dropped into her stomach, the council members had been their only hope for defeating Arden and his followers; with them, Arden had been small and insignificant, without them they were almost certainly facing defeat.

"But..but how?"

"Many of us came to aid those too young to apparate. I was teaching a small group of orphans when Arden and his followers caught me, where the others are I cannot say." Lady Greengrass's words were strained as if the very act of talking was an effort.

"So they could still be alive?" Mina said hopefully, a small amount of weightlifting. Lady Greengrass shook her head sadly.

"Lady Winters, Lady Rushworn and Lord Pherah were all captured by men under the banner of one, Tharin Morax, I hope for their safety but that is all it is." Lady Greengrass took a deep breath and let out a weary sigh, her voice cracking with sadness as she continued to speak.

"Lord Pepperiff was here when I arrived, one day they took him and...and he has not returned." Mina's eyes widened in horror, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach with guilt at not knowing what was going on right under her nose.

"Morax's men…" Mina swallowed past the grief that was making it hard to speak, gazing down at the filthy cobbles beneath her feet. "They killed Sonyea."

Lady Greengrass once again close her eyes as if shielding herself from the news.

"I had wanted to believe that it wasn't true." Someone muttered behind the witch and Mina squinted into the darkness. A figure rocked back and forth, skeletal arms wrapped around its legs as it continued to move.

"What...what's wrong with him?" Mina queried, using her magic to move the orb of light further into the cell. Figures dashed out of its reach clinging to the bars of their cage as they watched it pass with fearful eyes. Mina noticed that the figure was, in fact, a young man, head in filthy hands; when the orb stopped in front of him he let a large scream, pushing himself back against the wall in terror.

"Crucio, crucio, crucio." He mumbled it over and over again, his hands once again covering his face.

"He no longer sees what you or I see." Lady Greengrass said bitterly, pressing her lips together in anger.

"Crucio," Mina breathed, "But that hasn't..it hasn't been..I thought it was a myth." Hermione was shocked by the news, all that she had read of the curse had led her to believe that it had been around since the early middle ages.

"No, not a myth, it was created a long time ago by a dark wizard called Oloneous Heert." Mina's mouth fell open at the name.

"Sornius…" Hermione vaguely remembered the man that Mina had told Sonyea about, the wizard that had been spending time at the manor with Arden.

"Yes, when Oloneous died it was thought that the spell died with him, all word of it becoming nothing more than whispered stories that young witches and wizards scared themselves with. Dark wizards never stopped looking for it though and it would seem," Lady Greengrass sighed heavily again, "it would seem that they have found it."

Lady Greengrass rested her head against the bars.

"Oh Mina, the pain…"

"Shh, Shh." Mina cupped her hands around Lady Greengrass's, squeezing her cold fingers in a desperate attempt to comfort her.

"I hear then screaming and I can do nothing." A feeling of helplessness stabbed at Mina's chest, guilt once again settling in her stomach. She had been so happy with Edward, enjoying their stolen moments as if there was nothing and no-one else in the world. Their world had been silent save for their happiness, now all the terrible things were rushing at her and they were so overwhelmingly loud.

"I'm so sorry." Mina murmured desperately fighting back her own tears as the witch before her began to sob.

"I should have done more." Lady Greengrass shook her head.

"Do not blame yourself, you did all that you could, we all did." She leaned forward, her face pressing between the bars. "Who knows how many more would have died had you not given all the information you did, to Sonyea."

"It's still not enough." Mina sighed, gazing around her at all the prisoners that still cowered away from her.

"I hardly recognise who he has become," she commented to no one in particular but Lady Greengrass nodded, her gaze sympathetic and understanding.

"Dangerous minds have twisted, Arden. Those who speak only poison have been whispering in his ear for years."

Mina nodded wondering if she'd paid more attention she would have noticed. She had seen Sornius Heert with her friend many times; the old man had always been a potions enthusiast and Arden had been the same, so she had thought little of it. But now it seemed as though there had always been something not quite right about the wizard, something dark and foreboding that should have warned her.

"None of us saw any of this coming." Lady Greengrass stated as if reading Mina's thoughts.

"I have to get you out of here." Lady Greengrass smiled weakly.

"It would be an impossible task, Arden is a more than capable wizard and with the wizards, he has at his side," Lady Greengrass grimaced, "it would be suicide.

"I have to try," Mina said finally. "I could not leave you all here without at least trying."

"You put yourself in great danger simply by being here Mina, I would ask no more of you. Too many have died."

"And more will die if I do not do something. Anyone of you would do the same for me, I have no doubt." Mina turned away as a scream echoed from one of the furthest cells.

"I should return," she whispered quickly, gathering her skirt in her hands.

"Mina, wait." Lady Greengrass reached out to grab her arm and Mina tried not to wince at the bite of cold against her skin.

"See for yourself what Arden and his followers are doing and then decide if you want to risk your life for us." Mina shook her head smiling as warmly as she could.

"Nothing I could see would ever make me unwilling to help."

"Regardless you will do this for me, yes?"

Mina sighed, her head lowering gently as she gave in.

"I will." Lady Greengrass seemed pleased with her answer letting go of her arm and stepping back into the darkness. Mina walked back the way she had come, not daring to look at the pained eyes of Arden's prisoners as she passed. With each step up the winding staircase, she promised herself that she would get them all to safety, regardless of her life.


	53. Bearkiller

Thanks everyone for all of the comment, I know I say this everytime but they are appreciated. Sorry, I've taken so long to update, this chapter just didn't seem to want to get written. I hope you like it, more will be coming soon.

* * *

Edward stared down at the plate of brown mush in front of him, wooden spoon standing up in the centre. The sounds of his fellow soldiers reached his ears in a clamour of laughter, shouting, slurping and chewing but Edward felt as though he were miles away from it all, somewhere else, where he ran his fingers through Mina's hair as she sighed against his skin.

Draco felt ridiculously uncomfortable as the naked image of Mina played in Edwards mind; her cheeks wonderfully red and green eyes shimmering seductively. There was no doubt that she was beautiful but, the real thing or memory of the real thing felt slightly more personal, far removed from his late night visits to Boden Hill and his perusal of Theo's copy of Mischievous Magic, busty witch special. If he'd been able he'd have cleared his throat uncomfortably, a scarlet blush lighting his cheeks as he turned away.

A clatter of a wooden bowl and tankard been slammed onto the table brought Edward out of his reverie and Draco didn't know whether to thank or scream at the bearded man sitting opposite.

He'd been at Demon's Tooth, Draco recognised his large bulk as being one of the men that had climbed beside Edward. He gulped, quickly pushing away thoughts of the jagged peak before they filled him with dread as they had a habit of doing. A very large significant part of Draco was hoping that he could make it out of the memory relatively unscathed this time.

The bearded man prodded the slop gingerly before taking a large swig from his tankard, muttering a curse. Droplets of golden liquid hung off the coarse hairs on his chin, any movement of his head dislodging them and sending them seeping into the dark hair.

"I don't care how fuckin poor you am, you can make better shit than this." His voice gravelly and thick with an accent that Draco couldn't for the life of him place.

The large man took a hesitant nibble of his food, before letting the spoon clatter the table, an expression of disgust playing on his features. He cast an incredulous look to the side of him where a young spindly boy was shovelling the food back with obvious delight.

"How on God's green earth are you eatin tha shit?" He boomed making the boy jump and shake a little.

"I'm…" The boy glanced at Edward, his eyes wide and fearful, "I'm hungry."

"Hah, I could be bout ready to blow away in the wind, ain't no way I'm puttin tha in me." The large man stated, pointing at the mush in front of him. Quickly he tugged at the plate and sent it flying towards the young man who looked like he couldn't believe his luck. His eyes glinting with barely contained excitement at the prospect of an extra meal.

"Put some meat on ya bones." The man muttered into his tankard before gulping down most of its contents happily.

Edward hunched his shoulders hoping to make himself as small and insignificant as possible. Most of the soldiers he had been staying with had managed to overlook him, plenty of them not recognising him from the pasty man that had been brought in cursed and wounded and even more of them failing to recognise him as the Commander than had lead many of them into battle. He didn't mind too much, from his experience it was notoriety that brought trouble.

"You." Edward felt rather than saw the stare of the man sat opposite him, the weight of it heavy and suspicious. He glanced up slowly.

"You the one tha' witch cursed?" It was both a question and a statement and Edward took a deep breath.

"She didn't curse me, she saved my life actually." He muttered it quietly, almost under his breath. He was fully prepared for the large brute of a man to laugh in his face.

"Huh, well how's bout tha' then." The man sat back and the bench creaked unhappily under than strain and Edward looked up quickly in shock.

"Name's Bearkiller." Edward stared at the hand proffered to him, blinking several times before his brain finally caught up with what was happening and left him thoroughly confused.

"You know, cos' I killed a bear." The man offered in explanation, waving his hand to draw Edwards attention to it.

"Edward, Edward James." Edwards hand all but disappeared in BearKillers grip, the strength of it threatening to break his bones like twigs.

"The Edward James?" Edward's shoulders stiffened at the reverence in the young man's voice. "As in Commander Edward James of the Battle at Black Lake?" Edward cringed holding his finger to his lips, trying his best to silently discourage the boy.

"So, you am famous for more than jus' curses?" Bearkiller asked, sitting up and staring down at the small man before him. Edward cringed shaking his head slightly.

"Was, I was well known for my deeds. Now, well now it's the other thing." Edward gestured wildly in the air before grabbing hold of his wooden spoon.

"Hmm, know the feelin," Bearkiller muttered, moving his tankard about and watching its contents slosh around, his dark eyes thoughtful. He brushed the top of his bald head uncomfortably before meeting Edward's gaze.

"Lived quite a ways from here, best fighter in my clan, wielded an axe like it grew out me arm. Lived a bit like your crowned twig, all honoured an shit. Then these shitstains wearing armour came demanding some shit, had scrolls an orders, said they wanted me Ma. Good woman me Ma, old and wise an as feisty as a trapped rat."

"What happened?" Edward leaned forward.

"Well, I killed em didn't I, every last one an I'd do it again." Bearkiller sighed, tugging at the leather of his armour. "But that colourful man sent more didn't he. I gave me best but he took my people. Said if I wanted em back I had to fight for 'im." Bearkiller shook his head.

"Every man has a price somewhere down the line, held up at Wexland Point accordin to his most colourfulness and when I've done my bit I'm gonna get em."

"What did they want with your Mother?"

"Thought she was some kind of witch." Bearkiller shrugged. "Now that woman, she'd have put a curse on your 'ed an your ancestors would have felt it, but she weren't no witch." There was an uncomfortable silence that followed. Edward had forgotten that not all of the men serving under Tharin had been soldiers, some had been thieves and murderers, given another chance by the ever kind Tharin Morax. To them, Morax was a hero, a saviour that had come riding in and given them a second chance. It was nice to know that not everyone felt that way.

"You were at Demons Tooth?" Edward stated, grasping his spoon and moving the mush around his plate.

"Ar I was. Carried your ass down it an'all." Edward choked on his ale, staring up at the man with a new appreciation.

"Thank you," Edward muttered, placing his tankard on the table. "I'm glad you did not drop me."

"Hah, an' he has a sense of humour." Bearkiller squinted at Edward, giving him yet another suspicious once-over. "They've all been talkin bout you like some mystic fingers got a hol'of ya balls an tickled 'em out of existence. Mumblin bout a curse on your 'ed." The big man wiped his beard thoughtfully, shaking his head.

"And what do you think?"

"Well, already asked an I? Already got my answer. Plus we're all 'ere," The large man shrugged, " We're all cursed."

Edward found himself agreeing with him, if it wasn't for Mina staying in Menar would have sapped the life right out of him. The weather continued to be terrible, everywhere damp and muddy and Morax, their ever crazed leader, had suddenly decided to go quiet, leaving the men to slowly fester in their squalor. There was no doubt that Edward was grateful for the silence, happy not to kill any more innocents in the name of some lunatic, but something about it felt wrong; like the deep shaking breath before the whole world fell into a million tiny pieces and he was left to scramble around, putting them back together.

Edward reluctantly picked up his spoon, taking a small bite and chewing through Merlin knew what. Draco felt his stomach turn at the flavours that assaulted his taste buds, a small part of him considering that being stabbed might have been better after all.

"Braver man than I," Bearkiller grunted, shaking his head at the sorry offering trying to pass itself off as food.

"There are worse things." Edward shrugged, taking another small bite, his mind focusing on Mina. He would see her soon, only a couple of days to go and he would be back in her arms. She'd press the softest of kisses against his face, each one a blessing, each one an acceptance, and he would lean into them, fingers tangling in locks of her hair, thumbs brushing her sweetly blushing cheeks. She would taste like sunlight and goodness, the glow of it brightening the room in spite of the darkness. He would mutter how much he loved her against her skin and she would sigh and gasp her replies, the sweetest sounds he knew he would ever be likely to hear in his whole sorry existence.

"...an it tasted like shit, but even tha', even tha' was better than this shit" Bearkiller jabbed one large finger at Edwards plate, crossing his arms and looking thoroughly offended by its existence. Edward gulped down the food he'd been absent-mindedly chewing realising he had missed almost all of the large man's story.

"But...but why would you eat that?" The young man asked him, his head tipped to the side in curiosity, already digging into his second helping.

"Why would I..?" Bearkiller laughed, the sound of it more like a loud growl that made the young man jump slightly in his place on the bench. "When's between you an' the wilds, you gotta be prepared to do some strange things. It's jus' survival." He glanced at Edward for confirmation and he nodded.

Though he didn't really appreciate his thoughts of Mina being interrupted, he did understand what the large man was saying. There were much better things to eat in the village, they were just been given the slop because they wouldn't likely complain, not with Morax to answer to. When he'd been out on a campaign the things he had seen other men eat and even the things he had eaten still turned his stomach somewhat and he found himself dropping his spoon and sitting back.

"What about hunting?" The young man asked, and Bearkiller gave him an incredulous look, most likely doubting that the young man had ever hunted anything in his life.

"Thas all well an good if there's sommat to hunt. Cold sets in an everythin' hides or dies."

"That was almost poetic." The voice came from the side of Edward as another man sat down. He was a short man with twig-like arms and spindly legs, his cheeks gaunt and brown eyes that seemed to be hiding an immeasurable number of secrets.

"An you are?" Bearkiller leaned back, glancing down his deformed nose with obvious mistrust.

"Bearkiller, this is Rhylan, he's my…" Edward struggled to find the right word.

Rhylan had fought by his side more times than Edward could care to count, the reason for his survival only a mystery to those who did not know how deadly Rhylan was with both a blade and a bow. His small stature meant that he was quick and moved with such ease and grace that he mostly remained unseen, as such Edward had used him to spy on his enemies. Now though he did not know what their relationship entailed, Rhylan had remained loyal to him but he had absolutely no idea why.

"Friend, we are friends." Rylan glanced at Edward as he finished the sentence, obvious displeasure glinting in his eyes.

"You are my Co.." One look from Edward silenced the smaller man and he began eating his food quickly.

"What did you find?" Edward whispered, leaning closer so Rhylan did not have to raise his voice too much, Bearkiller, as if sensing that something important was about to be said, leaned his large bulk forward, the bench shifting precariously with a whine.

"A small group of men were sent to the training yard," Rhylan whispered, wiping whatever the food was from around his face.

"Well I'll be damned, it's a conspiracy." Bearkiller mocked, Rhylan simply looked up at him, his gaze unimpressed and continued relaying his information to Edward.

"It's the same group every time and they are kept separate from everyone."

"Aygust?" Edward asked and Rhylan nodded grimly taking a large gulp of his drink.

Something uncomfortable curled in Edwards' gut, if Aygust was involved then he was almost certain that something bad was happening.

"Do you know what they are doing?" Edward leaned forward, even more, fiddling with the bottom of his tankard while he waited of the information.

"Trainin' I'd guess." Bearkiller supplied, smiling slightly at his own wit.

"No, but...but there have been whispers," Rhylan said grimly, ignoring the large mans' statement. "They say there is a new weapon."

Bearkiller practically guffawed, holding his belly as he rocked back, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"You doe believe that shit do you?"

"And why shouldn't he?" The young man asked, alerting all the men around him to the fact that he had actually been listening and had gone completely unnoticed by all of them. Edward almost groaned at their complacency.

"Well as of right now you got yourself the biggest collection of bored fuckers, chances are whatever comes out their mouths is shit."

The skinnier man ignored Bearkiller once again, turning his face entirely to Edward. Draco jumped when he noticed that the man's one eye was milky white.

"Carts were brought through the other day, whatever they were carrying was hidden."

"How many?" Edward mumbled.

"About 20 or so."

"Military?" Rhylan shook his head taking another swig of his ale and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"Miners."

Edward paused, his mind running through all the possibilities. Many things Edward had been expecting but Miners had not been one of them.

"You ay considering wha' I think you am?" Bearkiller asked, eyeing Edwards thoughtful face.

"Rhylan, can you get us to wherever they are keeping what was delivered." The smaller man considered for the question for a moment then nodded.

"Travel light, there's climbing."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"This is pointless, you know there's no way tha' brightly coloured tosser has got a 'secret weapon'"

"You coming?" Edward asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"O'course I am, but only cos you two ladies couldn't sneak up on a deaf man. Hell, you can't even keep secret conversations away from big ears." Bearkiller pointed at the young man who looked mildly offended.

"Can I come?" He asked, turning his gaze to Edward and drawing himself up to his full, rather impressive height.

"No." Bearkiller shot him down quickly, rising from his seat.

"Well better get meself together, gotta protect some distressed damsels."

Draco fell to the floor as the bench he'd been sitting on dissolved into mist along with the memory. He winced glancing up at the ceiling in wonder as leaves fell from it, burnt with autumnal colours. Hermione was stood in front of him, the silver tendrils uncurling from around her and retreating back into the bowl. She gasped, holding out her hands letting her fingers graze the falling leaves, the small smile curling her lips making his heartache.

He really had missed her, missed these moments where she was completely unguarded. Completely Hermione.


	54. Time Forgets

Apologies for not updating in a while, I really have no excuse this time so I am really sorry. Thanks so much for all of your comments they are really awesome. Hope you enjoy this chapter, thanks so much for taking time to read, it really is appreciated :).

* * *

The sadness tugged at Hermione's heart as the memory faded, her breath catching as fiery leaves brushed her face and drifted down to settle at her feet. Her shoulders tensed as she realised that Draco Malfoy was sitting on the floor looking up at her, his grey eyes filled with an unfathomable emotion. She clenched her teeth as she realised she wasn't angry anymore, too curious, too relieved that the Sensieve had so much more to show them. She could feel it still gently cloaking her shoulders making her feel full of magic and the way Draco was looking at her made her almost believe that he could see it, glowing through her skin. She drew back sharply, cringing when the thought made her heart beat a little quicker in her chest.

"Granger." Hermione squared her shoulders in determination, turning on her heal and ignoring the blonde. There would be no rolling over and forgiving him this time, he'd made his decision and as much as it pained her he was going to live with it.

"Granger, wait."

"No." Hermione spat as she reached for the golden handle, cursing when it refused to budge beneath her weight as if something was wedged underneath it. Hermione placed both her hands on top of it, pushing down with full force, huffing when her excursions did little more than make the door creak slightly.

"Granger, will you just wait for a second and talk?" Draco paused for a second his mouth opening and closing several times, hardly able to believe the words tumbling out his mouth. Him advocating conversation about anything with Granger was a novelty even in itself, the fact that he actually meant it was petrifying. He almost took back his words out of utter fear but Hermione snapped back quickly and he swallowed his words awkwardly.

"I refuse to talk to arseholes, just my principles," she shrugged before shoving her shoulder against the door scowling when it didn't do anything. "Will you just let me out?" Hermione shouted to the room hoping that the magic would hear her and stop whatever game it was playing.

"Don't you want to know what happened in the Sensieve?" Draco asked, clambering to his feet and brushing down his trousers nonchalantly. He suppressed a satisfied smirk when Hermione tensed noticeably. He knew he had her there if there was one thing the bushy-haired witch couldn't resist, it was knowing things.

"What?" Hermione spat, whirling round to face him. Draco shrugged adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

"Just thought you might like to know what happened, you know considering you're always going on about it." Hermione frowned down at her shoes.

"This isn't fair you know." She mumbled.

"I'm offering to give you information, I don't see anything unfair about it." He tried to smile but Hermione met his gaze defiantly and it died on his lips.

"You know what I mean." She hissed and Draco dug his hands into pockets sheepishly.

"Life's not fair, Granger." It was meant to be a jab but Hermione tipped her head when it was tinged with far more sadness than she'd expected. Questions tumbled into her mouth and she pursed her lips to keep them trapped there. Questions usually lead to more talking, spending more time with him, more overwhelming and uncontrollable feelings, which in turn lead, predictably, to him drawing back and treating her like a stranger.

"Do you...do you really think that I will just forgive you?"

"Well, I was kind of counting on it." He said with a grin which immediately stilled when he noticed her narrowing her eyes at him.

"You haven't even apologised." Hermione fumed.

"I believe it was you who told me never to attempt it again, you know based on the fact that I'm incredibly bad at it."

"You are not using that as an excuse." She uttered exasperated, turning back to try the handle of the door.

"It's not an excuse if it's true, look...Granger just stop would you?"

"Why should I? Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

"Because you want to find out what happened just as much as me, probably even more."

She hated the fact that he was absolutely right and he knew it, she could almost feel his smugness stifling the air.

"What happened to' the memories of dead people don't matter'?" Hermione mocked, running her finger along a small split in the wooden door.

"I don't know, things change. Look, Granger can't we just..."

"No, I'm tired of you treating me like I'm a doormat, stomping over me with your obnoxious dragon skin shoes because of some self-entitled delusion that makes you think you can." Draco recoiled at the venom in her voice noticing how she shook with anger.

"I never meant to…"

"Don't you even dare. I am not some idiot that is constantly waiting for you to give me the time of day, I don't need your pathetic attempts at friendship and definitely don't want them, now leave me alone." She spat banging her fists against the door, not sure what she was trying to achieve but hoping that it would do at least something, anything.

"I'm pretty sure that you were the irritating know-it-all that liked to remind me that running away solved nothing." Draco ground out in irritation, losing what little patience that had been keeping the argument somewhat amicable on his end.

"Yes, well I stand corrected." She answered haughtily, resorting to tugging out her wand to attempt different unlocking spells on the door.

"You know that really isn't going to work." He reached for her, trying to grasp her arm but she yanked it away furiously.

"Get off me. I know what I'm doing." She spat in frustration.

"Fine, but it's really not going to work." He pointed out again.

"Oh yes, and how would you kno..." Hermione stopped mid-sentence when she turned and noticed that the Sensieve was once again rising from the floor. Draco's small smug smile was the last thing she saw before she was tugged into another memory.

The man leant over the large oak table, his small eyes flicking furiously over the scrolls that littered its surface, his hair springing from his hair in thin wisps that glowed orange in the candlelight. Taking a quill he angrily scribbled, lines creasing his large forehead, a scowl marring his thin lips.

"It isn't working." Hermione recognised Arden's voice as Mina craned her neck, quickly ducking out of view when he stepped into sight, black robes ruffled and unkempt. He gazed over the man's shoulder, worry and confusion flickering across his face in equal measure.

"It will." The man snapped, his voice shrill and breathy. With a growl he leaned closer, scribbling something out and writing beneath it quickly, leaning back and tipping his head to admire his work.

"Greater wizards have said that it cannot be done." Arden pointed out his voice seeming weaker than it ever had before, Mina fancied she could see the boy she'd grown up with in his expression, in the way that he held himself. The sight both comforted and frightened her.

The man straightened, gazing up at Arden with barely contained fury.

"Are we them?" He spat and Mina gasped when Arden seemed to shrink into himself appearing much smaller than the slight man in front of him.

"I...I.."

"Are we not greater, aspiring for more?"

"Yes...I…"

"Well then, enough of your dithering, bring the subject over."

Arden lowered his head shuffling out of view. Mina watched him go caught between wanting to comfort her oldest friend and screaming in his face in fury at the sheer idiocy of his decisions. She mulled over her own stupidity, how could she and Sonyea have thought that Arden had grown into such a strong leader, he had never been when they were younger. Sweet and kind, but weaker and easily hurt. Sonyea had spent most of her time ensuring that nothing happened to him, while Mina had always tried to get away. She remembered with bittersweet clarity how she had always hidden from him, always shied away from his advances because he had never been what she wanted.

Mina closed her eyes as splashes of memory pooled behind her eyes, her childhood in all the vast colour she remembered playing out before her. That day she'd hidden in a tree, she could still feel the roughness of the bark beneath her hands, the kiss of the sun against her skin as she gazed up at the clearness of the sky so vast and wonderful above her. The air had smelt like all the bustle of summer, alive with flowers and woodsmoke from the local village. She'd been breathing it in greedily, relaxing in the peace and the freedom when she'd heard Arden's cry.

It was guilt that had made her stand up to Edward so ferociously, the heaviness of it making her snarl in his face. She imagined now that it was purely guilt that kept her near him even now. She felt responsible. Responsible for his pain back then and now for the pain he inflicted on others.

The image of the small boy flickered away and was replaced by the Arden she knew now, the coldness in his eyes making her hands shake as they pressed against the wooden slat in front of her. Masarvas Manor was full of hidden stairways and secret rooms, mazes of corridors that ran behind walls and Mina knew them all. It hadn't taken her long to find out where they were spending most of their time and she'd become somewhat incensed when she found them in Arden's Father's old study. She noticed that they'd moved his father's portrait, unwilling to show the once proud wizard what they were subjecting their own kind to.

The fierce man was once again bent over the desk, running his hands through his thinning hair, seeming to tug on the strands with force. Sornius Heert. She'd imagined so much more from a man that had brought about so much evil and darkness, she'd thought that she would be able to see the blackness of his soul, but she saw nothing. He looked almost ordinary, like any other wizard that she had come across, nothing significant or memorable to mark his character. Mina figured that was how he had moved in shadow, pouring his insidious plans into the ear of the young and naive Arden without anyone's notice.

Mina covered her mouth as Arden once again reappeared, the body of a young witch floating in the air beside him, her hair floating ethereally around her head as if she were suspended in water, her face caught in a wide-eyed, abstract horror, her small whimpers filling the air.

Mina recognised her, the family had not lived far from Sonyea. Mina remembered the blonde of her hair, short and billowing in the wind as she ran through the corn fields that had reached almost to the back door of Sonyea's small and humble home, her laugh had rung with the ease of innocence and Mina almost shed a tear as it rang in her head and out of existence, falling back into the depth of all that used to be, replaced with all that was.

"Oh, Avie." She whispered the girl's name in sorrow, wiping the tears from her cheeks with shaking hands.

Sornius straightened, his eyes glinting with a malignant triumph that made Mina's stomach knot with fear. With a sniff of pride, he handed a scroll to Arden, turning his to him to gaze into the fire, tucking his hands inside his sleeves in front of him, giving him an almost serene and regal look that made Mina want to vomit.

"This will work?" Arden glanced between the scroll and the girl, apprehension clear in the crease of his forehead and the hard set of his shoulders.

"I am almost certain, everything...everything has lead to this of that I am sure." Sornius nodded to himself, though his eyes did not leave the flames, he was scared Mina realised as she saw the unmistakable shift of his robes and his hands shook beneath them.

"You...you wish me to do it?" Arden stammered, his eyes widening slightly in fear. Hermione felt Mina's hope well up inside of her. Perhaps there was a chance, perhaps her oldest friend had not been completely lost to evil.

"Who else?" The question seemed to shock Arden and he drew back slightly, the scroll dropping from his hands and drifting down to the floor.

Sornius turned slowly, his eyes lingering on the scroll that lay on the floor before lifting his gaze to Arden, the depths of his dark eyes holding emotions that were unnerving as they were unfathomable.

"You have done this many times, Arden, on countless others, why the hesitation now?" Sornius tipped his head in curiosity and Mina watched as Arden gulped, wringing his hands together.

"I...I thought that you might...as it is your idea." Arden hung his head in shame and Sornius laughed humorlessly.

"A valiant effort Arden, my boy, but I think perhaps it is more to do with the fact that you know this young witch, is it not?"

Arden did not answer, staring instead at the deer weaving their way across the rich red rug that lay beneath his feet, the gold thread of their fur glinting in the firelight. Mina could only guess his thoughts, guess the guilt that riddled him as he thought of the family. They hadn't had much and Mina knew they had spent very little time with them, but they had given all that they could and Arden, the Arden before had taken gifts round to them. She willed Arden to become that young man again.

"Yes, yes I know her." Arden finally muttered, glancing up at the older man, his hand gripping his wand ever tighter.

"And?"

Mina found herself choking on the still that followed, the air full of all the endless possible answers and endless possible directions those answers could throw them all in. She pushed her hand into her robes, fingers curling around her own wand, the thrum of magic travelling up her arm in a way that was almost comforting.

"And she is but the past." Arden breathed in resignation and something in the way his shoulders dropped made Mina prickle with the fear that they had been through this conversation many times before and he still had not stopped.

Sonius nodded sharply, holding his hands behind his back and stepping towards the younger wizard with a calm that felt forced.

"I am simply the Artist Arden, you," he gestured reverently to Arden, "You are the voice of this movement, the face of it. Your words ring across the valleys and witches and wizards alike turn their faces to listen" Mina almost scoffed at the sickliness of his words, like honeyed poison dripping from his tongue, but she saw with horror that Arden was standing straighter, that his eyes had filled with a dark resolve and his hands were no longer shaking at his sides. Mina realised that it had not been Arden's words that had torn apart their wizarding community, he had simply parroted all that he had heard, believing himself to be so much more than what he was.

Sornius reached down to pick up his scroll, dusting it off for show, eyes roving over its contents before he once again met Arden's gaze.

"Tis your words that shook this very land to its core uprooted all the rot that has poisoned our kind, it is _your_ magic that should bring this next step to fruition. The people will know who their leader is, see it from the example that you set." He held the scroll towards Arden who took it between his fingers delicately, a strange sort of wonder making his mouth and eyebrows lift ever so slightly.

"My…"

"Your magic." Sornius reiterated, stepping back and gesturing towards the floating girl. The way Arden looked at her had somehow changed, as if he no longer saw the little girl in his past, but instead a future that she was stepping directly in the way of.

Mina shook her head in disbelief as Arden's wand slowly rose, consulting the scroll in his hand several times before he once again focused on Avie. His wand followed an intricate pattern in the air, tracing the lines slowly. Mina watched as the lines began to glow forming what looked like an eye, its iris deep and black and swirling with a magic that made her shudder.

"Say the words." Sornius hissed, his frame hunched as he leaned in towards the glowing eye, excitement clear on his face.

"Corporanimas Separatum."

Hermione wanted to cover her ears as Avie screamed, her back arching painfully, her limbs shaking. A blue mist appeared to be separating itself from her and Arden seemed to be wrestling with something, the tip of his wand glowing white hot as he held it with both hands, sweat beading on his forehead, the eye before him crackling.

"Yes...yes that's it, don't let it fight you, use the power of the eye." Sornius breathed, his fingers lacing before him in excitement. Arden's forehead furrowed in concentration as he tugged on the blue mist more, drawing it out of Avie's body.

Mina covered her mouth to hide a sob as Avie screamed again, the sound echoing off the walls and seeming to make the very house shake. Mina could feel the very pain of it coursing through her blood, clawing at her insides. Then it simply stopped the silence that followed feeling so still that it felt wrong.

The girl's body was slumped in the air and Arden held the blue mist before him, his eyes appraising it with reverence. The eye had disappeared and Mina was able to see that the blue mist connected at the end of his wand, swaying lazily in the air.

"It...it worked." Arden breathed, leaning closer to inspect the strange substance before him, reaching forward to touch it.

"Don't. Do not touch it," Sornius warned, grasping Arden's hand and drawing it back. "There is no accounting for what may happen. At best you see, feel all that they once did, at worst...well you would not wish to share your body with anyone else would you?" Sornius commented drily and Arden shook his head.

The older man took a small container from the table and opened it gently, muttering something under his breath till the blue mist writhed towards it, settling itself inside. Sornius quickly replaced the lid and looked at Arden in triumph.

"Take the body and put it with the rest and bring another prisoner, there is much work to be done."

"Another one?" Arden asked in shock as if just coming to his senses.

"You wish to fight and if we are going to win we must have an army."

"What...what will you do with her?" Sornius placed his hands obsessively over the jar, caressing it gently with his fingertips.

"She will become more." He stated simply, pushing a scroll towards Arden. The young man's eyes widened as he stared down at it.

"This...this is possible?"

"It has always been possible. The magic within us is as old as time itself and has known everything, has been everything. My ancestors knew this, their work is the very foundation of our magic." Mina shook her head in disbelief clinging onto the wooden slats in front of her till the wood bit into the skin behind her nails making her wince. It was lies, all of it was lies but Arden appeared to be soaking it in as if it were the only truth he had ever been told in his life.

"Now, take the body and bring me another subject." Arden nodded once, flicking his wand. Avie's body floated towards him and he walked out of view.

Mina took a few deep breaths, putting one shaking foot in front of the other as she made her way down the dark passage, pushing open the bookcase at the end slowly, wincing as the wood creaked loudly. She peered round the back of the case, breathing a sigh of relief when she found it empty, the chill of the dark room sinking into her clothes and making her shiver. She stepped out into the corridor glancing both ways hoping to catch sight of Arden. She heard his footsteps before she saw him, stepping quickly into the shadows and holding her breath as he walked past, his shoulders straight, the body of Avie floating behind him. Mina stifled a whimper as she saw the girls eyes wide and glassy, devoid of any emotion.

Arden carried on walking, heading towards the farthest wing of the house. It was hardly ever used by the family, the tower apparently having been haunted by a less than friendly ghost, its shrieks and whales echoing well into the night. Arden had often told them tales of the tower, whispering of a terrible murder that had happened long ago. Mina had never really believed him but fear had always kept her from venturing anywhere near it.

The old childish fear gripped her as she followed Arden's progress and watched as the disappeared up the winding staircase all the way to the room at the top. She waited for some time, till he reappeared and hastily made his way back where he had come from, his skin ghostly pale and a terror so palpable upon his face that she could almost believe that the ghost was hot on in heels.

Mina swallowed, gently her foot on the first step gazing up warily into the darkness imagining she could see the shadows shifting before her.

"Come on, Mina." She chastised, whispering a quick spell that made a small ball of light appear before her, she willed it to dim slightly, checking behind her quickly to ensure that Arden had not returned, or one of his many followers had decided to keep an eye on her and knew exactly what she was planning to do. The corridor was clear and silent. Desperately trying to steady her nerves she made her way up the staircase, her footsteps echoing no matter how lightly she pressed them against the stone. She imagined she could hear the screams of the ghost, distant and terrible, but shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts. There was far worse within the manor now, more insidious and far more grotesque than any whisper of the past.

Mina came to an abrupt halt when she found that the stairs lead to nothing. She spun round searching the wall, her hands gripping at the stones to see whether any could be pushed in to reveal a secret door. She stepped back growling in anger when nothing worked. She had known Arden's father, known how he had liked secrets and mysteries, but it seemed that every trick he had taught her wasn't working.

 _'This will keep secrets, Mina.'_ Hermione was shocked by the soft male voice that echoed through Mina's head, it was kind and brought to her mind so many memories that Hermione could not concentrate on them all. One lingered, however, hazy and not as detailed, just the man himself, a smile wrinkling around his eyes. He looked like Arden in so many ways even down to his dark brown eyes.

' _We are a proud family but we will only be remembered for one thing'_ Hermione could have scoffed at his words, she wondered if he guessed that one thing would have been her son's torture of his own kind.

"Muro a'din." Mina breathed, looking down at her wand and concentrating on the intricate patterns, trying desperately to remember the counter spell.

' _When Veelas want to hide they say?'_

' _Muro.'_ The voice of her younger self-repeated the answer back to the older wizard with pride and he laughed in delight.

' _That's right and when they want to reveal something, the veela says?'_ The younger Mina bit her lip in concentration staring down at her shoes, after a moment she looked up in triumph.

"Shani," Mina whispered, pointing her wand at the stonewall in front of her. "Shani a'din."

The stones seemed to crumble away, disappearing completely as they fell to the floor, revealing a dark wooden door, iron bars across a small window at the top. Mina stepped forward and twisted the large iron hoop smiling a little to herself when it opened easily.

Mina felt a chill creep along her skin as darkness poured out of the doorway, whispers seeming to echo on the air, indistinct words blowing past her ear and making her turn her head to find the culprit, but no one waited in the darkness.

Mina could hear her heart beating in her chest, feel the terror of years of childish fear telling he to get away from the door, to run back down the stairs and never look at the tower again, never so much as step foot in the wing that housed it. There was no good to be found, she knew that, but if there was any chance at all of saving Avie then she would find it.

She stepped into the room her small light illuminating very little but she wouldn't risk anything brighter, not while there was a chance that Arden's followers could have infiltrated all areas of the Manor.

The room she stood in was rather large and she could just about make out the edges of pieces of furniture, a haze of dust floating in the air making everything look as though it were blanketed in a deep thick fog. Mina lowered her light, letting rest above the chairs that were gathered around an empty fireplace, they were old and delicately carved. The design was glyphs and runes that she herself had never seem before and Hermione was drawing a blank. Mina and Edwards story was old, old enough that much of their story had been tainted by time she could only imagine what had happened to the records of the language that was depicted on the chair, if it even was a language.

Something small caught Mina's eye, lined along the fireplace and she shuffled towards it, lowering her light right down to the floor, gasping slightly at the sight that met her. Small crudely made clay figurines that stood in a row in front of the stained black stone, their small arms reaching out, hastily carved features stuck in a look of horror.

Mina vaguely remembered stories of such an art, one that had been told late into the evening with mutterings of terrible curses and sorcerers that made a person's likeness with clay and made them do all terrible things.

"They took it from me." The voice was right behind her and it made Mina jump, the sound of it hissing, spitting and full of anger. She gasped when she noticed a small man sitting in one of the seats, his shoulders hunched, long grey beard brushing his knees. When Mina moved her light closer, however, the man disappeared only reappearing when darkness once again cloaked where he sat. He did not seem to notice her presence or be aware that anyone was even there, instead he stared into the empty fireplace as if the black, soot-stained stones could offer him any answers.

Mina had seen it many times before, especially on the vast swathes of land that had once housed battles. The dead reenacted the moment of their last seconds upon the earth, over and over again, caught forever. They were memories, of course, memories so terrible and tragic that they had carved themselves upon the earth and would remain throughout time.

Mina shook her head urging herself to stand and carry on with her search. She knew there was no use getting distracted, there was a good chance that Arden would be making his way to the room again soon and she could not still be there when he arrived.

She pushed herself through the archway at the end of the room, gagging slightly when the air thickened with a stench that put the dungeons to shame. She quickly pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, desperately trying to inhale the sweet aromas that lingered on it, her actions were fruitless however when the smell itself seemed to seep into the fabric making it far more concentrated. Mina rested against a wall, swallowing against her need to vomit.

"I am here for a reason." Mina reminded herself, breathing through her mouth and carrying on through.

"Eyes that shine but never see, mouths that breathe but never speak, lips that move but never eat, demons all of them demons." Mina stilled when the voice met her ears, she could see the candlelight flickering in the doorway at the other side of the circular room she found herself in.

"Eyes that shine but never see, mouths that breathe but never speak, lips that move but never eat, demons all of them demons." The voice carried on and Mina glanced into the doorway reeling back at the sight that met her.

"Eyes that shine but never see." The ghostly ethereal woman hissed weaving in and out of bodies that Mina realised in horror were the bodies of several witches and wizards slumped against walls or each other. They gazed off into the distance, eyes open and shining but there was nothing behind them.

"Mouths that breathe but never speak." The spirit carried on, its long robes flowing around it in rags, silver hair floating behind it as it moved.

Mina covered a whimper as she realised that some of her friend's mouths hung open their lips twitching and moving as if trying to form words but no sound came out, only various wheezes. They sat in their own filth, their bodies wasting away and becoming emaciated. She noticed that some had wounds that bled and wept, wounds she guessed were from the rats that weaved in between the bodies squeaking in delight.

"Lips that move but never eat." Mina let out a sob and the spirit turned to her its face angry and contorted but it paused. Slowly the anger melted away, the spirits face becoming that of a beautiful woman, a sadnss tugging her tips downward. It tipped its head in obvious confusion.

"Not a demon, not dark, the air shines around you and you shine with it." She muttered, rushing forwards and stopping just in front of Mina, her translucent body doing little to cover the carnage behind her.

"What has he done?" Mina sobbed, her knees giving way beneath her.

"No light, no bright, no magic, only empty eyes and sighs." Mina shook her head in disbelief.

"This cannot be, this...he couldn't…" Mina sobbed again as a rat climbed onto the face of Avie and bit into her cheek and the young girl's mouth moved but did nothing to push the animal away.

"GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FILTHY BEAST...GET AWAY," she screamed and ran at the creature, falling to her knees before Avie's body, pressing her handkerchief against the wound.

"I'll make this better, I promise." Mina sniffed, staring into Avie's glassy eyes, her heart breaking when there was no reply, no hint that the girl had seen her.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing. No one there. No one to hear, no one to hurt." Mina turned to the ghost, pulling Avie's body away from the filth and closer to her, ignoring the other witches and wizards that were in various states of decomposition, their bodies emaciated and skeletal.

"Who are you?" Mina breathed.

"Forgotten. I was once, was something, someone. Time forgets and so do I, soon time will forget what I am and I will not be. Just a whisper in the air, cold upon the breeze."

"Save them," Mina begged, her shoulders shaking as she curled her body over Avies.

"Nothing to save. No one to hear, no one to hurt. Only empty eyes and sighs."

"What has he done to you?" She muttered, shaking her head and holding Avie's head in her hands.

"They sing in stone, songs of sadness, of life and no death, of a prison closed and cold. I know the song, I have sung it through the ages, I will always sing it, always know it."

Mina stood reluctantly, closing her eyes trying to shut out the sight but she could hear the sounds of their laboured breaths, hear the skittering of rats as they became braver and scampered back into the room. Tears dripped down her cheeks and onto the floor.

"You scared me for so long," Mina spoke, uncertain why she was telling the spirit such a thing, it wasn't important and it wouldn't help her. "I would stare into the darkness and imagine I could see you waiting to curse me." Mina turned and looked at the spirit that seemed not to have heard, instead muttering her small chant about demons.

"This is...this…" Mina broke down crying again and the spirit floated to her side resting a translucent hand upon her shoulder. The touch of it chilled her to the bone, but it somehow awoke a resolve within Mina she thought had fled her body.

"Just a whisper of the past," Her words were more like a sigh, "Just something that should not be forgotten but will be, it always is."

"No," Mina said forcefully, pulling herself away. "They will pay, they will all pay and I will remember." Her voice echoed back at her and she hardly recognised it, so full of hate, so full of malice. She covered her mouth and turned to Avie one last time before making her way back through the rooms. The spirit did not follow her but her voice whispered in every room as if she were in every place but in none of them.

"Pay, they will pay, but the memories remain. Then time will forget and they will blow away."

The chant immediately stopped when Mina closed the door, muttering the spell to hide its location. Her stomach turned and she collapsed against the wall, her legs no longer able to hold her body up.

Hermione felt as though the memory was ripped from her, her legs shaking. She threw up, heaving painfully, tears rolling down her cheeks as her brain caught up with all that she had seen, all she had felt and known as if she were the one experiencing it.

"Granger?" She couldn't speak or answer him but shivered when she felt his fingertips brush the back of her neck as he held her hair out of her face and hesitantly began to rub her back.

"How in Merlin's name do you cope with all this hair?" He joked and Hermione went to bite an answer back at him, only to throw up again, her throat burning and stomach aching.

"It sucks doesn't it." He whispered, his voice almost sounding sympathetic. His hand on her back was rubbing slow circles that warmed her through and somehow managed to soothe her. With horror, she realised that she didn't want to be angry anymore, didn't want to fight what was happening to them. There were so many things that needed to be seen, needed to be known before they were forgotten and faded away with time.


	55. Taigen

The damp soaked into Edwards' knee as he knelt on the ground glancing surreptitiously around the corner. Rhylan had gone before them, the small man able to slip in and out of the most airtight of fortresses without anyone noticing and the guards that were watching the home where Tharin stayed were not the most vigilant. It was boredom that made them complacent, Edward had seen it in many of his men between campaigns, their training falling to all but ruin in the time between fights, their enemies no longer something that they feared but almost craved the presence of.

Tharin had taken refuge in a rather large stone building at the centre of the village that had acted as the home of the Lord and Lady Vond that owned most of the surrounding land. The two of them having been turfed out to sleep in tents under the pretence of doing 'God's work', no doubt they had made their arguments but there was little anyone could say against such a strong argument. Edward had seen the Lord from time to time, pompously making his rounds throughout the small village to ensure all the citizens that he was still in fact in full control. The Lady had not stepped out of the tent, not even once, no doubt far too embarrassed and disgusted by her surroundings to so much as show her face.

"Place is a shit ole," Bearkiller grumbled behind him, shifting his large bulk uncomfortably in the mud. He passed his huge axe from one hand to the other admiring the glint of the blade in the moonlight and Edward shook his head, returning to his vigil.

"Doe know what this song 'n' dance is all bout, could've been in and out for tha' twat had managed to shake off his dick." Bearkiller pointed to up to a guard that had decided to relieve himself off the top of the wall, his urine splashing down to the cobbles below.

"We don't want to alert anyone, just have a look," Edward muttered.

"I'm a quiet fucker I'll 'av' you know, like a mouse."

"A rather talkative mouse," Edward commented before lifting his hand quickly, urging Bearkiller to be quiet. Luckily the large man did, tipping his head to one side as he listened. It sounded like an owl, a faint hoot on the air that would have been missed had they not been listening for it. Edward quickly moved round Bearkiller edging along the wall of the house they had taken refuge behind, till they reached the far corner of the wall.

The pair of them hunkered down and Edward cupped his hands around his mouth, attempting to hoot back at his sneaky friend.

"What in shite's name was tha?" Bearkiller questioned, biting back laughter as he cupped his hands around his own mouth and imitated an owl perfectly. Edward turned away from the bearded man's smug expression; Rhylan would have known it was him. His friend had never openly laughed at his attempts to mock an owl call but he had noticed the slight upturn of his lips and amusement flashing in his eyes to know that he found it just as funny as Bearkiller did.

Rhylan returned the call with a whistle and seconds later a thick rope fell between them, a knot tied in the one end. Edward nodded at Beakiller and the large man quickly climbed, showing surprising agility for someone of his stature.

Edward turned to the village, eyes darting over one quiet house to the next ensuring that no one was wandering about. He had noticed that ever since the regular hangings the nights had gotten quieter. Most of the villagers had little understanding for what was taking place in their small town, going about their every day as if is some sort of daze, steadfastly ignoring the pile of bodies accumulated from the morning's executions. Some, however, learnt quickly, setting off rumours about neighbours that were having suspiciously more luck with their wares than others. All too soon many of villagers were standing amidst the condemned and so at night the village became deathly silent, men no longer frequented the inn, women no longer stood in small gaggles and talked about their days, even children were shut inside and kept that way, for fear that their play might be mistaken for evil machinations.

With a sigh he gripped the rope, focusing on the burn of it across the skin of his palms as he quickly traversed the wall using the stones as footholds. Bear and Rhylan grasped his shoulders when he reached the top, hoisting him over the crenellated wall. He pressed himself into the shadows between the two of them, his hands falling to rest on the handles of his daggers.

Rhylan lifted two fingers, gesturing down the walkway to a small turret with an arched doorway. Edward nodded as he lifted his head slightly spotting two guards stood side by side, one leaning against the arch, his laughter echoing into the night.

"Couldn't guard cow shit." Bear scoffed slightly amused by the spectacle, making Edward smirk. The man had a point, the two guards seemed far more enamoured with their conversation than anything that could possibly be taking place around them.

"There's another door." His voice was hardly a whisper, as quiet and shadowy as the man himself, but Edward heard it and gestured for Rhylan to lead to the way with a sweep of his arm.

The second turret was quite clearly meant to house the second guard, a rickety wooden chair and a sputtering lantern having been abandoned just inside.

"They dropped them off with the food stores below the manor," Rhylan whispered, only pausing for a second to make sure that both men were following him before tiptoeing down the spiral staircase.

There was very little room at the bottom of the stairs for all three of them to fit and Edwards was squashed unceremoniously against Bear as they gave Rhylan space to inspect the courtyard for other guards.

Rylan had been very generous when he had called Lord and Lady Vond's home a Manor. While nothing like the meagre holdings that were littered around it, it was nowhere near the grand pomposity of Lord Barnes' home. The stone arch looked out onto a rather humble courtyard. To their left were the stables, piles of hay littered outside of it that Rhyan quickly scooted behind and gestured that the others should do the same. Edward had been somewhat a regular at many of Lord and Lady Barnes' get-togethers and had come across the Vond's more times than he would have liked. From what he knew of the Lady herself he would have guessed that she would have been none too pleased with the ruin that had befallen her courtyard.

Tharin had quite obviously meant to use the small space to within an inch of its life, piling it with weapons and armour, horses that could no longer fit into the stables were tied up wherever they could fit, drinking from the stone pond which Lady Vond had always taken so much pride in. Mixed in amongst all of this were strange devices of various shapes and sizes that Edward had never before seen in his life. He knew all too well of torture, had witnessed several prisoners being subjected to such assaults but he had never seen such barbarity as that which lay in the courtyard of Tharins assumed home.

"What the…" Bear began seemingly unable to finish his sentence.

"It's his collection." Rhylan quicky breathed, "This is just what couldn't fit in the Manor." Edward noted how pale Rhylan seemed to turn at these words, dread coiling in his gut. He could only guess at what his friend had seen and even then he knew that it would be far too tame for anything that Tharin could have thought up.

Rhylan pointed to a door at the farthest end of the courtyard,

"That's where Tharin's been sending the deliveries." He whispered, glancing up at the wall and nodding when none of the guards walked into sight.

"One at a time, keep looking up," Rhylan whispered before moving along the shadow of the wall, coming to a standstill only a couple of times as a guard rather laxidasically walked the length of the wall, whistling melodically. Edward shook his head in disbelief when Rhylan knelt down near the door and had it open within a few seconds. Though the slight man had tried many times to teach Edward how to pick a lock, Edward had been a lousy student. None of it made any sense to him at all and the delicacy and slight of hand that was needed, Edward swore he simply didn't possess.

Bearkiller went next, his axe in hand as he followed the same path as Rhylan, his movements not quite as fluid and stealthy as the man that went before him, but still something to behold. Then suddenly he paused, reeling back to press himself flat against the ground behind the pond, half hidden by the body a horse.

"What's the matter?" A voice called far off as one of the guards inspected the courtyard, leaning down as much as he could, torch held aloft above his head.

"Thought I saw movement." He muttered curiously and laughter answered him.

"Course you saw movement, fuckin idiot, you know how many horses he's got down there." The guard looked none too impressed by his friend's ridicule, stepping away from the edge and turning to him in annoyance.

"Just doing my job, unlike some." Their conversation was lost as they moved back into the turret, only the sound of hooves on the ground and the odd whinnie of a horse disturbed the stillness of the night.

With a sigh Edward let out the breath he'd been holding and watched as Bearkiller made it to the door, turning back to him. Edward couldn't make out his face but he guessed that the large man was grinning at him, nearly being caught seemed like something that would appeal to him.

Edward crept along in the dark, his breathing even and heartbeat steady in his chest. This he knew, it was familiar and easy; just him and the shadows, his one hand resting against the reassuring roughness of the leather wrapped around the handle of one of his daggers, the other feeling along the grooves of the stone wall at his side, keeping him balanced. In no time at all Edward found himself in front of a grinning Bearkiller who's bulk was filling the doorway. Edward offered only a grimace in return, the sooner they found out what Tharin was hiding the sooner they could be far away from his home. He knew that he imagined it but he almost felt as if evil were seeping into his very being and poisoning his soul.

They descended the stairs into the gloom, the chill of the cellar biting at their skin with every step they took. Rhylan finally lit a small torch when they reached the bottom, the small corridor they stood at the end of flaring to life, light dancing along the walls giving the impression of people moving about just beyond their line of sight.

"It's a maze down here," Rhylan commented, more to himself than the rest of the party, but Edward found himself looking down each of the corridors that filtered off the one in which they stood and grimaced. It really was a maze, with more turnings and small tributaries of detours than he would ever hope to remember. Luckily Rhylan only had to walk somewhere once and he knew it, as sure-footed as if he had spent all his days walking the terrain. Many campaigns had been won simply because he had trusted the man's judgement.

"How in sweet fuckery do they find anythin' down ere'?" Bearkiller grumbled, hunching his shoulders so his head didn't skim the ceiling, the underbelly of the Manor was in no way built for a man of his stature.

"Many of the servants have spent their entire lives working for Lord and Lady Vond, know this place better than their own homes I'd wager." Bearkiller chuckled deeply shaking his head.

"Figures."

"They brought it just down here." Rhylan stopped at a small opening, uneven steps leading down into yet more darkness, a cool biting wind blowing up from the depths.

"Smell fresh," Edward commented, leaning forward to sniff the air as it ghosted against his face. It seemed as if the stairs did not lead underground but instead to the surface.

"There is a network of caves nearby, they built the Manor right on top of one, the air comes through from there." Rhylan shrugged as if the information was utterly pointless but he didn't mind explaining.

"Seems like a bad idea," Edward mused as he followed behind Rhylan, kicking stones off the steps, listening as they echoed strangely in the black, "building your home atop a cave system, would welcome surprise attack surely."

"From small rodents, yes. From humans? Not so much. Locals call it Coney Hill."

Edward knew of Coney Hill, he'd heard many old tales about them when he was younger, tales of giants trying to dig out the small animals that lived within its heart, their grasping fingers had left wide cave mouths that gaped open and spilt stones down to the ground below. The animals had burrowed away, deeper and deeper into the ground so even the long fingers of the giants could not reach them. It was why the cave systems were so treacherously narrow, thinning rapidly and becoming impossible to traverse. He had long since stopped believing in such tales, but when the stairs stopped and opened out into a large cave, smaller openings littering its walls, he could almost believe that small animals had made them in their desperate bid for freedom.

"I had no idea they came out this far," Edward commented. Rhylan nodded, placing his torch in the holder that had been fixed to the wall. The flames licked at the damp walls, and made them sparkle and glow, crystals that had grown naturally in the deep earth glittered prettily in the gloom.

"They keep it back here," Rhylan muttered ominously, pulling a large black leather covering from off a huge bulk. Edwards' eyes widened as the gloomy cave was filled with the light from thousands of small stones of varying colours, the light rebounding off their surfaces and painting both their skin and the cave walls.

"Well, I'll be…" Bear struggled to finish his sentence as his mouth opened and closed at the sight.

"He's been sending men to mine the earth, this," Rhylan gestured to the glowing pile, "is what they've been bringing back."

Edward glanced around the large cave and noticed that there were several more piles covered with the same black leather. Whatever he had planned to use them for, Tharin appeared to need a lot of them.

"Unless he wants to make himself look pretty, what the fuck are they for?" Rhylan grimaced slightly as if the very question set his teeth on edge.

"Wallick, the Blacksmith, he's been working on something for Tharin, mighty secretive about it, I'm guessing they are something to do with the weapon."

"Hah, an how the fuck you figure tha' then?" Bearkiller scoffed, coughing so as not to laugh too loudly, his voice already echoing dangerously as it was. Edward met Rhylans gaze letting the man know that he wished for an answer to Bearkillers poorly worded question, he couldn't see much point in using them in any weapons apart from managing to make his entire army look like rich little lordlings rather than war-torn warriors.

"Its something to do with the witches and wizards, something that can be used against them." Bearkiller seemed to still at these words, kneeling down before the stones, picking on up and weighing it in his large palm.

"Ar I've 'erd talk, not much mind. Me Ma used to settle stones on wounds would heal em right up. Youngens sufferin through terrors when dark fell, they'd sleep as if someone at hit em over the 'ed. Not all stones, just some. She'd spend ages pickin em out, said they glowed…" Bearkiller glanced up at Edward, "if he is usin 'em could be tha'. Doe know much bout it all though like I said, but them's as sure as glowin" The large man chucked the stone back on to the pile hoisting himself to his feet.

Edward stared down at the pile of stones thoughtfully, there was a faint glow to them as if the stones were producing their own light and the more he stared, the more certain he became that the light was dimming and brightening as if it were pulsing within the stones.

"We need to find out what Tharin is doing, everything." Rhylan nodded at his commander as if the information were already gathered.

"You know anything else?" Bear shook his head regretfully, spinning his axe between his fingers.

"All I know's what I've seen an tha' were long back but…" The man's eyes seemed to brighten suddenly, a grin spreading across his face, "Ay me Ma might help, after all, widdlin her fingers an blessin us wherever she is. She left me sommat, might come useful." Edward nodded taking a single stone from the pile and gesturing for Rhylan to cover the stones, he had a feeling that they would be back there before long, but for now, there was nothing more they could do.

Rhylan stopped suddenly, hand reaching for his blade, the other pressing his fingers against his lips quickly, before taking out a dampened rag and wrapping it around the torch to smother it. Bearkiller palmed his axe, moving swiftly to the bottom of the stairs, pressing his back against the wall and Edward followed him, pulling one dagger slowly from its sheath.

The scuffing of feet could be heard even louder in the darkness of the cave, echoing down the steps along with quick breaths. Edward grabbed the stranger quickly pulling them into the darkness. He pressed them against the wall, holding his dagger against the column of their throat. The answering squeak made his shoulders sag in realisation, he knew he should have been more careful when having such conversations in places where anyone could listen.

"Ppppp...please don't hurt me." Rhylan quickly relit his torch, the flames revealing what Edward had already grown to suspect, the young man that had spoken to them earlier had taken it upon himself to follow them.

"What the fuck are you doing ere?" Bear growled in his face, stepping forward and snarling right in the boys face. "You speak, or I take your ed from your shoulders and carry it on me belt."

"I'd answer his question," Edward commented, adjusting his grip on his knife, drawing the young man attention back to it. He watched the young man gulp, taking several deep breaths before any sound left his mouth.

"I…I...I followed you."

"And what made you do that?" Edward asked cautiously.

"I...I want to help, do something."

"I can help you die if you'd like?" Bearkiller threatened and the young man whimpered in reply.

"This is no place for a boy," Edward mumbled, shaking his head slightly and stepping away from him, letting him crumple to the floor. He re-sheathed his knife with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not a boy, this is my sixteenth winter coming."

"Be your fust winta without a tongue you keep spittin words like tha," Bear warned and the boy instantly shut his mouth, bottom lip quivering.

"How did you make it here?" Edward crossed his arms head tipping to the side as he took in the young man's slight physique, lack of shoes, and clothes that looked as though they had seen far better days. His hair was brown and matted terribly on his head, lice quite clearly moving about in it.

"Same way you did." He seemed to lift his chin with pride and Edward had to admit that he was impressed.

"You could have got us caught." Rhylan admonished, his words only making the boy quiver when they were coupled with a deep growl from Bearkiller.

"I wasn't, I promise, I was quiet." The young man seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, brown eyes flitting between the men before he gulped and opened his mouth. "Could hear all of you though, you were making a lot of noise."

Edward turned to Rhylan amused and the slight man shook his head.

"Alright Bear, leave him be." Edward gestured for the large man to move away from the quaking wreck on the floor and was quite surprised when the large man spun his axe in one hand and did exactly as he was bid.

"Sixteenth winta," Bear scoffed, "what they feed you on, air?" He spat on the ground in distaste before moving to Rhylans side, only casting the one-eyed man a slight look before crossing his arms and nodding towards the rather pale looking boy.

"What'll you do with 'im?"

Edward didn't answer, he had no real idea what he would do with him. By all means, they couldn't afford to have anyone jeopardize their plans, they also couldn't afford another enemy, there were far too many of those everywhere they turned.

"Who are you?"

"Taigen." The young man looked up at him hopefully and Edward realised that he did indeed look significantly older than he'd first imagined, not many years younger than himself. The innocence in his eyes, however, suggested that he had not seen a battle in all his sixteen years.

"Why would you help us?"

"Morax." Taigen spat the name with so much venom that Edward found himself leaning back. "I followed him here in order to kill him." Bearkiller laughed and Taigen bristled.

"I will kill him, my face will be the last he sees." Edward shook his head, there was fire in his eyes no doubt, a fire he recognised as having burnt within him long ago, but he knew that it wasn't helpful. Burning that brightly got you killed faster and lead to stupid decisions.

"How do you know that we aren't working for Tharin?" Rhylan asked casually, peeping up towards the top of the step cautiously before looking at the rather pathetic rumpled pile Taigen made on the floor. Taigen laughed bitterly.

"You hate him, you all hate him. I've seen the way you look at him," he looked at each of them in turn, "Like you're killing him a thousand different ways in your mind."

"I'm killin you a thousan different ways in my mind, can you see tha'?" Bearkiller asked, grinning evilly as he leaned down to Taigen. The brown-haired lad pulled away slightly, fear flashing in his eyes for only a second only to be replaced by a steely resolve that almost took Edward by surprise.

"Well kill me then, I know that you've been down here and I won't leave you alone, not now. Not now I know that I can do something." Taigen sounded almost breathless as if it was all he had thought about in his relatively short life.

"With pleasure." Bear replied happily grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck and lifting him up. Taigen let out a small whimper before managing to school his features, meeting Bears gaze with almost no trace of terror.

"Kiri's gonna sing through your bones." Bear said, glancing at his axe affectionately and drawing it back to deal the blow, the boy shook visibly in Bears grip.

"Hold on." Edward finally said, once again surprised that his words were enough to still Bearkillers actions. The large man turned to him lifting on eyebrow curiously.

"You wanna keep him?" He shook the boy a little in the air, the relief at not dying was clearly shown in the wet stain in the front of his worn trousers and the limpness of his limbs. Edward nodded and Bear lowered him the ground watching with mild amusement when Taigen seemed to puddle helplessly, folding in on himself.

"You're brave." Edward admitted nodding his head, "Brave and stupid." Edward realised that they were not the best qualities to have in an ally but it was something.

"You do exactly as commanded, you do not deviate, do not question." Edward knelt before him, "One mistake, I kill you myself." He stood quickly, hoisting the boy up and almost shaking his head at how light he was.

"Understand?" Taigen nodded quickly his whole body moving with the enthusiastic action.

"You follow Bearkiller."

Taigen did not seem to happy about this order, but he managed to school his features and nod cautiously shuffling however reluctantly to stand behind him.

"We go for now." They all nodded at him, Rhylan disappearing up the stone steps first, followed by Bear and Taigen. Edward allowed himself one last look at the dimly glowing room. In spite of their beauty the rocks had filled him with a certain amount of dread, it had settled in his stomach and now simmered their uncomfortably. Tharin was no a good man, not a kind bone lingered in the entirety of his body. Whatever he planned Edward knew it would be disastrous for everyone. With a heavy heart, he turned to the doorway, making his way up the steps as if his very limbs were weighted with all that was to come.

The memory faded quickly and Draco found himself before the Sensieve, catching the last sight of it as it disappeared into the floor. He gulped when he teetered slightly on the edge of a dark abyss that appeared to have no bottom, but quickly the floor slid back into place and everything was solid again. He breathed a sigh of relief, turning quickly when he heard the sound of retching.

"Granger?" She was knelt on the floor, her hands splayed before her holding her up as she emptied her stomach, tears dripping from her chin. Without thinking much about his actions he rushed forward, pulling her hair out of her face and holding it back, hesitating only momentarily before placing his hand on her back, rubbing it gently. He tutted slightly when small little ringlets of hair kept springing for freedom, shaking his head and smiling in amusement. It was typically Granger.

"How in Merlin's name do you cope with all this hair?" The smile died on his face when Hermione heaved again, his hand moving in larger circles on her back, allowing the tips of his fingers to dig in slightly, hoping to make her feel better.

"It sucks doesn't it." He muttered solemnly, thinking of all that the Sensieve had made him see and experience. Hermione shook slightly as she tried to sit back, flopping almost helplessly against him. His hands grasped the tops of her arms as she began to sob, the sound of it making Draco's chest ache uncomfortably.

"They were all…" Hermione blubbed, sucking in gasping breaths to try and finish the sentence but only succeeded in crying more, her hands shaking and giving way beneath her.

Draco caught hold of her, grasping her upper arms and pulling her back into him, his own legs giving way under the weight. He'd expected her to fight him tooth and nail, to claw at his face and tell him to let her go, but she didn't. Hermione Granger slumped into him, her tears painting his white shirt. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, his chin resting on top of her head as he whispered all the soothing words he could muster, mumbling them the way Edward had mumbled his love for Mina as if they were a precious secret.

"Why can't you always be like this." It was just a breath, a barely there utterance but he heard it and it made his chest feel tight, leaving him breathless.

As if realising what she had said, Hermione quickly ripped herself away from him, scooting along the floor as if his very touch had burnt her. Draco let his arms fall to his sides, his back falling against the wall. She would scream and shout at him, tell him that he was an arsehole and then they'd probably go back to ignoring each other again. He almost shrugged with resignation, this was his lot, to be hopelessly in love with a girl that couldn't stand the sight of him, didn't want to touch him.

"It was terrible." Hermione's words dragged him out of his own little world and made his eyes widen, she was talking to him, she was actually talking to him. Not screaming and telling him to go and shove whatever olive branch he'd been shakily trying to hold out to her, up his arse. Draco didn't trust himself to speak so instead leant forward a little, following her progress along the floor till he sat just a little in front of her, his legs crossed between them. Hermione seemed to be eyeing him warily but hadn't moved, so he took it as a good sign.

"What happened?" He could see tears shimmering in her eyes once again and he gently brushed them away with the pad of his thumb, shocked when Hermione threw herself against him, her hands gripping his shirt as she buried her head in his shoulder. He almost thanked the Sensieve at that moment for keeping them together and shoving them into memories that they had absolutely no control over. He was slightly suspicious that it was what the Sensieve wanted, for whatever reason it wanted them to know the truth and wanted them to find it out together. He knew he should be mad, should be incensed by the lack of control he seemed to have over his own life, but as he cradled Hermione in his arms he thought that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.


	56. High Inquisitor

I am so so sorry that it has taken me so long to update, I have been finishing up my Uni work and now that its all done for the time being I will be updating regularly. Hope you like this chapter, thanks so much for all the reviews and follows.

* * *

Draco could feel rather than see Pansy's suspicion, it pricked the back of this neck and made him lower his head guiltily when he once again found himself looking at Hermione. Whenever he thought of the previous night's events his chest would hurt and his eyes would chase her, snatching at everything and holding it in his mind; then he'd ruminate stupidly over whether any of it was because of him, if any of her thoughts were retracing every word, every breath, and touch from the night before. He hated and loved the way it made him feel.

He'd held her, Merlin he'd held her, and she'd clung to him in a desperate sort of way that had made him feel like some sort of hero. It was childish pride that made him flush all the way up to his blonde hair when he realised he'd never seen her hug any of the golden trio the same. True, he wasn't in the habit of recording all their actions, but he was pretty certain that Granger didn't fling herself at just anyone. Nope, she flung herself at him, him of all sodding people and it had been singularly the most petrifyingly beautiful things he'd ever experienced.

He'd mumbled what he'd seen, painting it in as much detail as he could because that's what she always wanted, a little frown on her face as she snapped out all her questions, hand impatiently on her hip when he didn't answer them well enough or fast enough. He knew it annoyed her that she couldn't actually see any of the memories, knew that she desperately wanted the other half of the story because in Granger's mind it would be just as important, if not more.

She'd shifted her head against his shirt till her eyes had flickered up to his face, skin all blotchy on her cheeks, puffy eyes with tiny drops of tears wobbling precariously on her eyelashes. The sight had made him clear his throat, attempting to shift his legs, a mission soon aborted when he'd realised Hermione's were in the way. He'd blinked rather stupidly at her feet sitting between his, the fact that he could feel her fingers on his shoulder. The warmth of them had been an unbearable heat that he swore he could still feel, burning against his skin as he sat staring at his breakfast. It was a heat he hadn't know he'd needed. He suppressed the urge to groan into his breakfast, balling his fist against his forehead. For the love of Merlin, he needed her out of his head, but he knew it was fruitless because her words from the previous night echoed in his mind and he was powerless to stop them.

" _What are they like, Rhylan, Bear, and Taigen?"_ She'd sniffed the words, extracting herself from him and he' fought every instinct to draw her back to him, letting his arms fall off her waist as she settled by the side of him. The cold had come back for a bit, it had felt like stepping away from an open fire and finding that the world was all frost and icicles, and he was the dithering idiot who hadn't dressed for the weather.

" _Like muggles."_ She'd whacked him, and he'd relished the contact and mentally shook his head at himself because now, on top of everything else, he enjoyed her physically abusing him. He had to see a healer.

He'd somehow managed to answer all her questions without doing anything royally idiotic and she'd slowly told him what she'd seen, scooting ever closer so their shoulders were pressed together, smatterings of the Sensieve's magic dancing along their skin. He'd gently, with about as much bravery as his house could ever realistically possess, let his fingers graze the back of her hand, dropping them between the gaps in hers, holding his breath for the inevitable fallout, that to his utter shock, never came. Everything combined had left him feeling somewhat light headed. The memory she recounted, on the other hand, had about the same effect as a hex to the face or a bucket of ice cold water being dumped over his head.

" _I want to know what…. what he's doing and why."_ She'd chewed her bottom lip as she'd said it, shoulders slumping against the wall as she'd sighed in exasperation. He'd nodded, suggesting that there had to be more memories, more information, more anything. He could recall rattling on for quite a bit, filling the space with hot air and the hope that she wouldn't let go of his hand. He almost shook his head in disbelief, who would have thought that Draco Malfoy would have waxed lyrical all day long if it meant he could hold Granger's hand for just five more seconds, the idea of it was just baffling.

He'd walked her back to her common room, silence had been thick in the air and he'd snuck glances at her that left him none the wiser as to what was going on in her head. When they'd paused outside the portrait, the Fat Lady giving him a reproachful look before sniffing and turning her attention to a bowl of fruit at her side, he'd become almost certain that she'd go back to hating him, she did kind of have every right, a fact that he cringed to remind himself of constantly.

" _Will I…?"_ He hadn't been able to stop the step he took forward, the grin that had stretched across his face almost painfully, the swell of hope in his chest that mirrored the hope in her eyes.

He tried to shake his head, taking a bite of scrambled egg to cover the grin that was forming on his face, he'd muttered a yes to her and watched her eyes glint with happiness. Yes; as if there was any other answer that he could give her as if there was any other answer that he wanted to give her. Yes, he would meet her again, yes, he wanted to, yes, he wanted to be with her, yes, he absolutely, unequivocally wanted her. He knew she didn't understand the weight of feelings and emotions attached to that world as it had dropped heavily between them, but she'd nodded, and he'd walked away, his steps feeling so light he wasn't even sure they touched the stone beneath him.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" Daphne's voice pulled him away from staring at Granger, her blonde hair nearly trailing in his food as she leant towards him, blue eyes smiling and curious. Draco blinked at her several times; she was pretty, no one could deny it, one of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts and well-respected name to match. He wished all of that was enough, it would make everything a darn sight easier. But it wasn't enough because...because it just wasn't. Every possible feature of note, every wonderful thing he could pick out about the blonde witch was met with...'yeah but Granger'.

"Um, yeah." He mumbled, taking a long sip of his pumpkin juice and marvelling at just how articulate he was early in the morning, with thoughts of Granger bouncing around his head like pixies on a fresh batch of Pomfrey's Pick-me-up. He tried not to pay any attention to the glare Pansy was shooting him, her nails tapping out an annoyed rhythm on the wooden table.

"You went for a walk?" Pansy bit out, crumbling a piece of toast into dust in a display of violence that only Draco seemed to notice, and it made him gulp. He nodded, scooping up some scrambled egg and pretending that the sheer delicacy of the dish in front of him kept him from braving his friends stare, despite the fact it actually tasted something akin to ashy mush.

"And you didn't take Daphne with you?" The question seemed lighthearted, a curious friend commenting sweetly on his past time, but Draco could feel the venom of it as she snapped it at him. He lifted his head to defend himself to do something, anything to stop Pansy and her hooked nose butting into his business. She'd dig, he knew she would, hooking her Slytherin green claws around the truth, dragging it shamefaced and naked into the light of day. He shivered as a chill ran up his spine at the image his thoughts invoked.

"He could have wanted to go alone." Never in the history of Hogwarts had Draco ever thought that he would be compelled kiss Gregory Goyle, but he strangely found himself resisting the urge, the great oaf having all the glitteriness of an Auror coming to save him from an evil dark wizard. Pansy knew it too, her eyes brows doing a weird dance as she stuttered uncomfortably, Draco grinned and decided against swooning into Goyle's arms.

"I just think it would be nice to spend time with his, _girlfriend_." The emphasis on girlfriend made him jump a little, swallowing the large lump of fear that had risen into his throat. She knew she friggin knew, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd hired some poor unfortunate first year to trail him, all shakiness and sweaty pits because 'Miss Parkinson said so'.

"What are you the relationship police." Blaise chuckled, making a meal out of buttering his toast evenly. Theo had once helpfully pointed out that there was a spell that could do that for him, though the jam he'd received to the face had been comical, it had also felt like a slight overreaction on Blaise's part.

"I just think it's important to spend time together." She ground out, trying to plant her foot into Blaise's leg, but he moved at the last minute, smirking when she nearly fell off her seat.

"What do you call this?" Theo gestured to all of them sat together with the end of his fork.

"It doesn't count, we're all here."

"Oh, it was fine, Theo kept me company." Daphne cut in joyfully and the boy in question nearly lost his drink all over Blaise's lap, a fact which Blaise looked none too impressed with.

"Well you know, I try." He mumbled, and Blaise scoffed earning a disapproving glare from Daphne.

"Don't be so modest," Daphne flicked her long hair over one shoulder, resting her chin in her palm delicately as she spoke, "I don't think I've laughed that much in... ever."

Draco completely missed the gleam in Daphne's eye as she said this, too busy utilising the distraction her words afforded him, looking over the rows of students till his eyes found Hermione's bushy nest. Her head was lowered as she read the daily prophet with the same attention she gave everything. He'd have shook his head if he hadn't found the sight unbelievably adorable, so much so that a small smile ghosted his lips.

"All I'm saying is, what could he possibly have to say that could keep you entertained all night?" Blaise scoffed again, looking towards Pansy for some sort of agreement, but finding her shrewd little eyes were flicking between Theo and Daphne as if she were figuring out some unfathomable riddle.

"You assume there's talking involved." Theo shot back, his smirk freezing on his face as horror began to dawn at the realisation of what he'd said and who he had said it to.

Blaise and Theo both turned to look at Draco, desperately trying to gauge his reaction and being thoroughly baffled by the soft smile curling the ends of his lips. Blaise cast a worried glance to his friend, eyes communicating the possibility that their friend may have truly lost it as he cleared his throat. Draco jumped a little, eyes widening and then narrowing when he noticed he had an audience. Schooling his features, he gave then an even grey stare, his usual 'I'm a Malfoy and I don't care'.

"What?"

"Look, mate, I…" Theo began only to be interrupted by the high-pitched peal of Daphne's laughter, her hand pressed over her mouth as she leaned into the rather worried looking Theodore, their shoulders bumping as she shared in his joke, albeit rather slowly. He forced out his own nervous laugh that died into nothingness when Pansy sniffed in disapproval. There was nothing quite like Pansy's disapproval, though the boys laughed at her and wound her up, they would sink into little puddles of contrite Slytherins when Pansy finally reached her limit and made it clear that she did not like what was being said. It didn't happen very often, but when it did it was like the young witch had conjured a chill wind that froze everyone in place.

"You have the funniest friends." Daphne breathed, grinning lazily at Draco, who gave her a small nod.

"I know, a real hoot, aren't they?" Pansy attempted, giving the blonde a tight smile.

She was biting her lip again, Scarface beside her talking animatedly probably about his lifelong dream of stardom or how impossible it was to shatter his glasses. She quickly looked up at him and he sucked in a breath and for one exquisite moment, it was like he was deaf to the world, lost in a weird in-between where time moved too slow for sound and the few seconds that they looked at one another lasted for an achingly sweet eternity.

An eternity brought to an abrupt end by Crabbe's large clammy palm waving in his face, chunky digits blocking out his view of her doe brown eyes. He supposed he should have thanked his meaty friend, the places his thoughts were taking him were sickeningly sweet, teeth rotting sweet and he absolutely wasn't okay with it.

"Pansy wants you."

Draco sighed, turning his attention to Pansy and instantly wishing that he hadn't, her nostrils flaring violently, the sight something akin to the horntail Potter had somehow hoodwinked the year before. Draco rolled his eyes knowing exactly what the look, flickering dangerously in her eyes, meant. With great reluctance he got to his feet, moving towards the large doors at the end of the Great Hall, offering the pathetic excuse and him and Pansy needing to go through some work together. He didn't look back, but he knew she was following.

* * *

"Are you crazy?" Pansy rounded on him as soon as they'd left the Hall, making his steps falter.

"Ah yes, the usual Parkinson greeting makes me privileged to be your friend."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. And what kind of question is that anyway, as if I would know if I'm crazy and if I did, why would I tell you, if you think about it, it doesn't really make sense." Draco pointed out casually, leaning his shoulder against the wall and watching rather amusedly as Pansy fumed at him, smoke practically shooting out her ears.

"I can't help you if you keep being a dick."

"Well, that's a bit harsh."

"You keep putting yourself right in the way of that know-it-all, in my book that falls right under, oh yes being a dick." Draco bit back a retort, defending Granger was in no way going to help his case. Pansy must have noticed something because she pointed a long nail at him.

"You went to defend _her_ , then didn't you?"

"No, I didn't." He shrugged standing up straight, trying to dodge her accusations and failing epically.

"Yes, you did, you had the face."

"I do not have a... look Pans, I went for a walk. I didn't kill anyone, didn't sneak off to snog Granger," _Wanted to though_. He cringed when the thought popped unbidden into his head. The memories of the night before were flickering through his head so clearly that he thought he could feel Granger's hand in his, her tear-stained cheek pressed against his shoulder, he hoped Pansy couldn't read it in his eyes.

"Hmm...a walk?"

"Yes Mom, a walk, now if you've quite done tracking my every step, can I go?" Pansy shook her head, grabbing his arm when he tried to leave.

"You asked me to help, remember. You came to me and dumped all this crap, not the other way around."

"Merlin, I know, I know, jus…" He looked at her levelly letting his shoulders slump slightly. He hated Pansy sticking her nose in making it harder for him to see Granger, but she was right. He had asked for her help and he'd done it for one very dark and evil reason that was creeping ever closer. Being with Granger somehow made him forget all the other messy stuff surrounding him. It all seemed so easy with her as if the things keeping him from being with her were nothing but stupid fantasies concocted in his mind. He couldn't blame Pansy, she was doing what she had always done, being a good and loyal friend.

"I've got this okay? I just needed some time to myself." His words seemed to mollify whatever argument Pansy was waiting to throw at him, her mouth opening and closing several times before she scowled.

"Okay, but Granger isn't your only problem, I mean she's a big, big problem but…" Pansy looked down at her feet, forehead creasing.

"But what?" Draco asked, not entirely understanding Pansy's concern, the look on her face suggested another killer had escaped from Azkaban and he was first on their merry little kill list. That or the Dark Lord himself had asked her out for dinner and she didn't know how to let him down gently.

"Theo and...and Daphne." Draco continued to stare at her, when he realised no more information was forthcoming he raised his eyebrow.

"What about them?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Pany as much as I find this thoroughly amusing, and you know I don't, could you please say something that makes a teeny tiny bit of sense? Just a smidge, is all I'm asking." Pansy scowled at him, shaking her head.

"I honestly can't believe you don't see it."

"See what?"

"You guys are all the same, something is right in front of you, practically doing star jumps and you can't see a bloodie thing."

"Okay, evil man-hater, you mind answering my question before I die from all this excitement?"

"Theo and Daphne…they were," Pansy cast a quick glance around as if imparting thoroughly confidential information, " _flirting_."

Draco drew back, eyes widening. He had not expected that. The sheer hilarity of it all was not lost on him and he began chuckling under his breath.

"It's not funny," Pansy stated seriously, which only served to make him laugh louder, till his guffaws were echoing off the stone walls.

"It's not funny." Pansy tried again, hoping that more emphasis on her words would somehow breakthrough Draco's amusement.

"Come on, it's a little funny."

"So it's fine that your girlfriend is giggling at everything Knott says like it's the best joke she's ever heard?"

Draco shrugged, "He's a funny guy."

"He's not that funny."

"Tell that to Greengrass." Draco cut in, making himself laugh a little more. Pansy pinned him with a look that told him she was not ever going to share in his enjoyment. Drawing up the last dregs of his strength he managed to sober himself, looking at least a little bit serious as he tried to calm her worries.

"Okay Pans, Theo is my mate, he wouldn't - he wouldn't do that to me." Although there as a part of him that kind of wished that he would. Greengrass would no longer be an issue and he could wander off to spend time with Granger with no fear of the Parkinson wrath. It didn't take an Arch-Wizard to realise just how flawed and full of holes his plan truly was, still, it was something he deluded himself with for a few seconds.

"You need to be there with her, you know, remind her who it is that she adores." Draco made a face and Pansy sighed waving her hand.

"I know, I know, yuk, bleigh, gross, all of the above. But girls like to feel like they're wanted and right now it looks like Theo wants your girlfriend more than you do."

"Well, he…"

"Don't say it, just don't. We're doing this for a reason."

"What was that reason again?" He asked sarcastically, grin dying on his face when Pansy didn't reciprocate

"I don't know, or even remotely understand how you feel about her, Drake, but I know…" She took a deep breath and met his gaze, "You're my friend and I don't want anything to happen to you."

Draco paused and nodded, there was a reason he'd asked Pansy to help him. Yes she was stubborn and nosey and yes, she would go to all weird and wonderful lengths to find out the truth, but she cared, cared deeply for those she considered worthy of it.

"Nothing's going to happen to me Pans." He assured her placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Just say you'll try and spend some time with Daphne."

"I'll try…" When she continued to stare he cringed, "Not this week though."

"What?" Pansy's eyes practically bugged out of her head.

"I just need some time to myself, this thing isn't easy especially with Gran...especially with _her_ being so close."

Pansy seemed to concede to this sighing heavily and smiling wearily at him.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with prefect duty would it?" She raised her eyebrow and Draco gazed down at her innocently.

"Now when have I ever done anything I'm supposed to." Pansy chuckled slightly shaking her head.

"One week, Malfoy, one week."

"Now who's angrily using second names?" He mocked, and Pansy swatted his arm.

"Just promise me that you'll be careful."

He followed her progress as she walked back into the Great Hall, though it felt like a phenomenal curse, he supposed it was a blessing to have friends that cared so much.

* * *

"Inquisitor?" The paper had been passed down the length of the table when Theo had expressed his utter boredom loudly, drowning out the debate that appeared to have erupted amongst the 7th years.

"Mom thought it only right to inspect how well we're being educated, apparently," Blaise stated, continuing to read as Theo turned to tell anyone that would listen, even some still quite severely butt hurt 7th years that told him to stick his old information rather painful places.

"Do you speak to your mother with that mouth." Theo gasped dramatically, chuckling when the 7th year stalked away, his friends trailing behind him casting unimpressed glances back towards the table.

"Honestly, seventh years these days, absolutely no backbone," Theo commented inspecting his nails.

"You're going to get hexed if you're not careful." Blaise warned, and Theo waved his hand at him leisurely, "and you do realise I am not going to help."

"I'm wounded Beeny Boy, the things with being through, the places we've been, the fantastic specimen of witch that we've seen, do they all count for nothing?"

"Call me Beeny Boy again and I'll be the one hexing your ass."

"Alright, alright, what else does it say." Theo nodded to the paper and Blaise once again dipped his head to read.

"Oh look, Malfoy's Daddy got himself in the paper again." Theo rolled his eyes.

"What's he got to say this time?" Pansy asked, sitting herself down next to Blaise, who gave her a quick glance before burying his head back in the paper.

"I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation. Many of us with our children's best interests at heart…"

"Well you can't take anything he says seriously, it's not like he had an invested interest in his son's future." Pansy scoffed.

"Unless of course, that future involves marrying a well-bred witch and popping out sophisticated in-bred…I mean well-bred babies and sitting upon his royally Malfoy throne."

"You sort out everything with Draco?" Blaise asked, brow furrowing slightly.

"Yeah, everything's sorted." She said airily, and his frown deepened. He'd known Pansy a long time and he'd never known her to give three words in explanation of anything. His gut knotted as he wondered what could have possibly made her so deliberately vague.

"Your family are the same." Pansy pointed at Theo, grinning when his smile dropped just a little.

"That means I am in the privileged position of being allowed to say it." He squared his shoulders somewhat defensively and Pansy snorted at him.

"What does inquisitor even mean?" Goyle leant over, reaching for another piece of toast.

"It means they don't think people at Hogwarts are doing their job properly," Blaise explained with a shrug, finally turning his attention away from the side of Pansy's face.

"And making sure we don't talk about You-Know-Who." Pansy shrugged, immediately freezing when she realised that both Theo and Blaise had turned to her, their eyes wide in shock.

"Are you planning on enlisting into the Golden Trio? Because that's all they seem to be banging on about these days. Scarface is practically obsessed with the dead dark wizard, it's a little unhealthy." Blaise questioned, leaning back as and eyeing her up suspiciously.

"Very unhealthy."

Pansy realised her error, while she and Draco were fully aware of the looming danger, like a constant dark cloud over all her conversations, her two friends were blissfully unaware. Her comment must have seemed unusually Gryffindor. She felt a little sickened by the thought of it, gulping heavily before trying to give a non-committal shrug.

"Just point out that you know…all the years this school has been open and only now they decide to 'investigate'. Just seems a little off to me…that's all." She took a sip of pumpkin juice, so she didn't have to look at any of them, hoping in Merlin's name they didn't suddenly decide they wanted to press her for more information.

"She has a point." Pansy breathed out a little at Blaise's words, she could always count on him to defend her, she realised, always.

"I don't know, I wouldn't be surprised if they came for Hagrid alone," Theo muttered noncommittally, glancing at Daphne who'd moved slightly down the table to sit next to her sister.

"Or Trewloony." Pansy offered, and the two boys nodded.

"Does it have to be her though, I mean of all the people." Blaise was pointing at the rather smug image of Umbridge as she was bestowed the great honour.

"I know right, her face gives me the creeps." Theo shivered for effect and blatantly turned to look at Daphne again and Pansy frowned deeply.

"She's not all that bad, she gives us treats when we tell her things." Crabbe gestured to him and his friend with a grin of pride. It wasn't very often that anyone relied on the great oafs, so Pansy could understand the puffing of their chests at the fact that they finally seemed to be taken seriously.

"What could you possibly have to tell her?" Blaise asked in disbelief and Pansy elbowed him.

"Ow…what?" He turned to Pansy looking slightly wounded that she had resorted to violence after asking something that he knew they'd all been thinking.

"I second that unless Umbridge has an unhealthy interest in how many chocolate frogs Goyle can consume in one minute…"

"Provided they don't run away." Blaise clarified for his friend.

"Ah yes, provided they don't run away," he corrected giving Pansy a meaningful look, "I'm not sure why she would bother."

Crabbe looked at his friend excitedly shifting in his seat with obvious want to tell them all about it, but Goyle shook his head.

"Vinny ole chap, why don't you regale us?" Theo encouraged. Crabbe glanced between Theo and Goyle for a few heartbeats before shrugging with some disappointment."

"Just things."

"Hmmm, how very mysterious." Blaise mocked.

"They've probably forgotten," Theo whispered just loud enough for both the boys in question to hear, but, as usual, they did nothing.

Pansy stared at them for some time, they're hunched shoulders, the silent communication that seemed to be flitting between the two of them feeling somewhat uneasy. It was a strange feeling, something she wasn't used to, especially with regards to the two idiots that often shadowed their group, but it was there. It niggled at the back of her head, what was it that Umbridge could possibly want to know and why in Merlin's name was she asking Crabbe and Goyle. Something seemed off and she was determined to find out what exactly it was. Perhaps she'd even find a way to keep Draco distracted from thoughts of the bushy-haired-know-it-all.


	57. Fire Bowl

The ancestors of the Malfoy family looked down at Narcissa curiously as she walked down the hallway, her skirts billowing softly just loud enough to drown out the suspicious whispers emanating from the paintings. She never knew why the Malfoy's were always so considerably disappointed with everything that seemed to go on in her home; should she so much as change the décor they would mutter under their breath, little snippets of 'typical of a non-Malfoy' would reach her ears and she would pause in her work, resigning herself to some other part of the house where their hooked noses couldn't appraise her and constantly find her wanting. Even when she had decided that she would make restorations to parts of the house that were looking somewhat dilapidated and in a state of disrepair (quite rare for any magical family worth their salt) the Malfoy paintings had tutted, disagreeing with every step that she had taken. Today though she ignored them, letting their mutterings bounce off her head as she rushed through the winding corridors. Disappointed ancestors were the last thing on her mind.

"Dilly?" She called sharply, not pausing in her relentless pace even when a small house-elf popped up beside her, her ears smaller and thinner than most, downturned as though perpetually sad. Dilly, on the other hand, was the most energetic and happy House-elf that Narcissa had ever come across, although she supposed that her judgement was a little skewed by her frequent run-ins with Kreacher when she was younger. The mottled and wrinkled elf seemed to have so much hate and venom that she was certain the poor thing did not know how to smile. Dilly, however, beamed constantly, her small beady eyes constantly lit with absolute adoration for her mistress, lips constantly twitching with the want to exalt her with any words that she could. The first time they'd met the stream of adjectives she'd used to promote Narcissa had got rather tiresome and Narcissa had forbidden her from ever doing it again. Sometimes she felt a little bad as she could see that it took Dilly considerable effort to abide by her Lady's wishes, but still, it was much quieter and a lot less embarrassing. A Malfoy she was but that much care and attention from one tiny creature was enough to make her feel a little ashamed.

"Get my fire-bowl and bring it to the drawing room." Dilly squeaked in delight.

"Right away, my Lady." With that she popped out of existence leaving Narcissa alone, her thoughts instantly straying to her son, to her suspicions and to the silence she'd received from Snape in reply to her letters. She admitted that the letters could have been less accusatory, less sharp and to the point, but she was scared for her son. Unfortunately, he was no longer blessed with the freedom of his childhood, he was no longer free to do as he wished, to go where he wished, to be _with_ who he wished. Danger lurked around every corner of his life and made even more imminent by his father's embarrassing grovelling at the feet of that darkness.

But silence? Narcissa straightened her back indignantly, she was a Malfoy and before that, she had been a Black, they were proud and noble families and she would not be shoved to the side like some common half-breed. She stamped out her anger into the stone, listening to the ring of her steps. She had a suspicion, a mother's intuition that there was something going on with her son that Snape had neglected to tell her, even the though the professor had given her his word that he would keep her informed. Ignoring her letters was doing quite the opposite of that and she felt compelled to point out this little fact to him.

She swung open the door to the drawing room, the fire already crackling happily, a plush chair pulled near to it, bronze bowl resting on its cushion. Dilly, for all her excitement, was a fast worker and when the job was done she didn't linger, she simply clicked her fingers and was away to where she was needed next. Narcissa smiled a little as she picked up the bowl, gathering her skirts in her hands and kneeling before the fire. She flicked her wand gently, glowing embers from the bottom of the fire floating through the air and settling in the bowl. She stood and stepped back into the chair that Dilly had prepared for her, making herself comfortable. She took a pinch of Floo Powder from the small carved box that sat on the polished table to her right and sprinkled it over the embers watching the smoke curl lazily as it burnt.

The Fire Bowl was the ladies answer to propriety when communicating via the Floo-Network. It was Elemina Ovey who had been thoroughly dismayed by the sight of a Lady kneeling, shoving herself headfirst into some of the grandest fireplaces, rear end held obscenely raised in the air. Elemina Ovey was of the assertion that, while Wizards may find it proper to hold one's posterior in the air whilst communicating with others, witches did not. And so, the Fire Bowl was created, though possessing a rather unimaginative name, so that ladies might sit in comfort and propriety, delicately raising the bowl to their face to communicate.

Narcissa mumbled who she wished to speak to, raising the bowl to her face and blinking gently as she was greeted by the sight of Snape's back, his shoulders hunched over a black cauldron, stirring its contents gently. His office was a lot smaller than she expected it to be, the walls lined with jars of different shapes and sizes filled with all manner of weird and wonderful things. She knew she probably should have paid more attention during her own potion classes as she failed to identify several of the ingredients Snape had amassed.

Snape paused in his stirring stilling for a few seconds by beginning to stir again in the opposite direction. Narcissa found herself shaking her head, she had never understood how anyone could find potions so enjoyable, there was a certain amount of patience needed to brew particular potions, a patience that she found she did not possess. She was certain that even from a young age, the awkward dark-haired wizard had found something he liked staring at in the depths of his cauldron; something secret and mysterious that only he could see. She wondered if he'd be able to find an excuse for his actions as she cleared her throat. She bit back her amusement as the professor jumped, wooden spoon nearly dropping from his hand, the contents of his cauldron sloshing into the flames below making them sputter and smoke.

The dark-haired wizard managed to compose himself, turning to the fireplace, the air seeming to crackle with his annoyance. Narcissa barely gave it a passing thought, her eyes narrowing as she appraised the wizard before her.

"Mrs Malfoy, to what do I owe this untimely visit?" He sniffed, turning a chair toward the fire and sitting down. Narcissa pursed her lips at him unhappily, she did not enjoy the fact that he did not seem even slightly fazed by her call.

"You owe this to not replying to my letters." Snape's face seemed to jump and flicker uncomfortably before settling back into its usual state of indifference. "Now unless Hogwarts has a particular Owl problem I haven't been informed of, I'm very much inclined to believe that you have been ignoring me." She stated sharply.

"I have been incredibly busy as of late, new school terms will do that." He commented, leaning back and adjusting his robes around his legs.

"I don't really care how busy you've been, we had an agreement, you _agreed_ that you would teach my son…"

"And I have been teaching him."

"Potion classes do not count, Severus." He winced as she spat his name, the embers hissing and crackling with her anger.

"I do have other students to concern myself with." Snape pointed out, now moving to inspect a potion stain on his sleeve. He tried his best to seem as though the weight of responsibility and secrets wasn't weighing him down but at times like this, he almost wished he could fold in on himself and leave both sides to hash it out alone.

"Other students, that are at risk like my son? If so, please do enlighten me." Snape held his tongue, not allowing Potters name to drop into the conversation, there would be far too many suspicions, far too many questions.

"I understand your concern for Draco, but he is in the best place and his lessons are coming on in leaps and bounds."

"Best place? Have you been reading the news?"

"Narcissa, I think you will find that I have been here, I know the issues that we are facing at Hogwarts." Snape sighed.

"And what of the Granger girl?" Narcissa asked quickly and Snape found himself momentarily stunned, quickly schooling his features and meeting the witches fiery gaze.

"What about her?" He shrugged slightly trying to salvage the situation, but he could tell from the look of glowing triumph on her face that he wasn't going to fool anyone.

"I know Severus, I've seen the way Draco looks at her."

"I'm sure you're just imagining things, Mrs Malfoy. I can assure you that Granger has been nothing but an annoyance to your son for as long as they've been at school." Narcissa did not seem convinced.

"I'm his mother, I think I know my son."

"There is nothing to be concerned about, I assure you."

"It's true isn't it?" Snape said nothing turning his attention to a jar of pond mulch, hoping Malfoys mother would get bored of her line of questioning. Words failed her as she searched Severus' face for a clue.

"Severus Snape you will answer me, and you will answer me truthfully."

"Draco may have shown some minor interest."

"I knew it," she breathed, shaking her head and swallowing a sob that had risen to the back of her throat. "He can't, Severus…he can't be with her."

"He isn't." Snape quickly snapped, though he completely agreed that any such relationship would end in tragedy there was a strange sort of anger that settled in his gut at the thought of there being no choice for either of them.

The information seemed to make Narcissa pause, her face turning towards him in the ember and ashes.

"What would you have me do? If anything like this…if he is with her I can't…I can't protect him."

Snape understood Narcissa's worry, but he also understood Malfoy much to his chagrin. To want, to hope, to love and need someone so bad that even when gone, every breath, every word and thought is theirs. An entire life spent in paying homage to all they were. He knew how everything was stolen even before he'd had the chance to embrace it as his own. He hated when people spoke to him of the wondrous love that saved Harry Potter, he would clench his fists till his nails carved tiny crescents in his palm. All it ended up being was a constant reminder that his love hadn't done the same for her.

"I will make sure the boy is kept safe," Snape assured.

"And you will continue his lessons?"

"And, when I have the time I will endeavour to continue his lessons." Snape nodded hoping that would be all that was required of him but Narcissa spoke softly and the hope dwindled into nothingness.

"I want him to be happy, Severus, and safe, how can I do that when everything I do to keep him safe makes him unhappy?"

Her words warmed his heart a little, moved a little by the evidence that at least one of Draco Malfoys parents cared for him. He had no answers for her and so kept silent. He heard her exhale slightly as if realising the futility of her question.

"Just please…keep him safe…I…goodnight Severus." Snape nodded at the fire and watched her face disappear, a large piece of coal, burning red with heat, rolling slightly as the embers shifted in her absence.

Snape let his head fall back against the back of his high-backed chair. He could not deny that he'd let thoughts of Draco Malfoy slip a little to the father reaches of his mind. There was too much else happening all at once; the new year, the presence of the ministry even Harry Potter had once again become a priority. Still, the boy did have a warning, the one memory he had vowed never to show anyone else, not even Dumbledore.

He would keep his promise, right till his last breath but he wasn't sure that would make much of a difference. He knew the lengths he'd gone to trying to make Lily fall in love with him and he had a feeling that, regardless of all the warning, all he had been shown, Draco Malfoy would do the same with Hermione Granger.

Hermione gulped nervously as she wiped her palms on her skirt, rounding the corner to where she was supposed to meet Malfoy, heaving a sigh of relief when she found that he wasn't there yet. The night before had been…well, it had been unbelievable, she'd struggled over her sobs and confusion to even try to relate to Ginny what had gone on with them. Whenever she played it back in her mind she found herself convinced that it was a trick of the Sensieve's magic, just some minor hallucinations that she could wave off and forget about. But then she'd seen him at breakfast, the familiar greyness of his stare and she hadn't felt angry. No, instead she'd felt the same breathless, dizzy multitude of feelings she'd felt the night before rushed back making her feel as though the world were fading away fast and she hadn't quite found anything adequate to hold onto.

She was a little annoyed at herself, she was after all Hermione Granger and she would not be treated like an idiot, but when she thought about it she came to the realisation that she'd let him. Let him wander back into her life with his half-hearted apologies and eyes full of his usual haughty sense of entitlement, and it was by far the most idiotic things she'd done in a long while. To top it all off she'd somehow ended up enveloped in his arms, his hand on hers, finger dropping between the gaps where hers weren't.

Problem, massive, huge, insurmountable problem was that it had felt wonderful, calming in the most uncalming way; like she'd licked her fingers and stuck them into a plug socket, but found the whole experience strangely cathartic. She'd wanted to draw him closer at the same time as wanting to push him away, where she could beat some sense into his ferity head.

She'd somehow convinced herself that their little moment didn't mean that she'd forgiven him, quite the contrary. They weren't 'friends', weren't back to pretending that they hadn't been enemies for an age. No, she wasn't having that again; letting Malfoy anywhere close to friendship proved to be too much of a confusing experience for her to ever actively partake in it again. Her behaviour the previous night had been a momentary lapse in common sense if he could have them so could she and it was no big deal, nothing to lose her mind over.

Besides, she nodded to herself to affirm the thought, there was a much more annoying pink thing to worry about. Umbridge's increased presence and power within the Ministry and the school was beginning to worry her, let alone the fact that lessons with her covered little more than the basics. Basics which she'd read and memorised, knew inside out and had used to help Harry defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named more times than she cared to think about. Nothing they were being taught was going to bring her remotely close to passing her OWLS and nowhere near being able to protect herself.

Hermione nodded to herself as she shifted in the alcove, she would treat her time with Malfoy for what it was, curiosity. A chance to see Mina's memories and find out what happened to her. She vowed silently that she would not let herself be swept along as she had before, there were much bigger things at stake than Malfoy's monstrous ego and honestly, it was getting exhausting trying to keep up with him.

Still, he had been sweet, the way he'd held her had felt nice in a way. The memories still flooded in and accosted her with all the terrible things she desperately wanted to forget but his voice in her hair made them seem bearable.

"Granger." She nearly jumped as he said her name in what sounded like relief as if he hadn't expected her to be waiting there for him. She bit her lip to keep herself from pointing out the fact that she wasn't the one that broke promises.

"Sorry, I'm late…I…" Hermione noticed his dishevelled appearance, her stomach clenching uncomfortably. She guessed he'd been with Daphne and her thoughts strayed to whether he'd held the blonde the same way he'd held her the previous night. She shook her head quickly, shrugging her shoulders and walking past him.

"Shall we go?" She asked, her voice clipped and business-like, making Draco's brow furrow in confusion.

"Granger what…" He went to grab her arm and she pulled it away. She didn't know why she was suddenly so angry, but she felt as if her entire body burnt with it. She watched as Draco stared at his hand for some time before looking up at her, sadness seeming to darken his grey eyes.

"I don't…" He shook his head.

"Just because we have rounds together and the Sensieve doesn't mean that we are friends. You were a jerk, an absolute complete knob and what? I'm just supposed to forgive you?"

"We spoke about this."

"No, you spoke about it, as usual, Malfoy gets to say what he wants and disregards everyone else's feelings."

"So, Scarface and Ronniekins would be subjected to this too, if they'd messed up? Of course not, you'd be grovelling at their feet faster than they could find it within themselves to look even remotely apologetic." He had a point, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction.

"I do not grovel, and Harry and Ron are nothing, nothing like you." She spat, pointing a finger in his face.

"Okay, so we're just going to do our rounds this week, and then what?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders non-committedly, sneering at her sarcastically. "We go back to our normal hating each other, wait for the Sensieve to pluck us out of thin air and dump us in another memory, I'm dying to hear what explanations you'll have for your little friends when that happens."

Hermione paused, she hadn't considered that, hadn't thought about the fact that the Sensieve's magic would get stronger and possibly affect them outside their little meetings, it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility, considering all the other weird and wonderful things it had managed to do. She also was quite shocked when her heart ached at little at the thought of them going back to how they were before, back to hating each other. How many times had they had this argument, how many times had they gone over, threatened the same things and somehow, they still ended up being drawn back together.

"Can't you understand why I would be angry, you blow hot and cold all of the time, I can..." she rubbed her eyes in frustration, "I can't keep up."

"You can't keep up? What about last night, you were…"

"Last night was different and you know it."

"Oh, so when it's you it 'different' when it's me its because I'm an arsehole who likes toying with people's emotions. Honestly, Granger, you must have me pegged as some royally sadistic prick."

"Can you blame me? One minute you act as though we…I don't know, as though we could be friends or…" she daren't finish her train of thought, though her mind added it. As though they could be more, she didn't really know what that more was, but it was something. Unbelievably she found her mind wandering more and more to the kiss and what it would feel like if he meant it. If he wanted to do it.

"And the next it's the same old Malfoy, self-entitled arse that has no time for anyone that doesn't have a pompous family name."

"You're a fine one to talk, shall I come make idle chit-chat with you and your Gryffindor friends, sure they'll be thrilled with that turn of events."

"Pretty sure that would work quite nicely if you could ever learn to be civil."

"I was being civil until some stuck-up Gryffindor thought she was above all that." He muttered, walking away.

"I am worth more than your lousy attempts at friendship."

"Yeah whatever, Granger, let's get this over with, then you can go back to hating me like you so obviously want to."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, it was exactly what she planned, exactly what she wanted and yet somehow, it felt nothing like she wanted. Her chest physically hurt as he walked away, and she felt herself erring on the side of forgiveness before chastising herself. It was Draco Malfoy, he wasn't hurt by her words, just probably annoyed that she'd accused him of something that he actually did. She took a deep breath and followed him hoping that the air around them would at least clear a little, so she could breathe easier.

They were a good way into their prefect duty and Hermione as almost convinced that the Sensieve wouldn't make an appearance, certain that it would leave them to the awkward atmosphere they'd managed to create. Suddenly though the walls began to change, the silver mist swirling around their feet as they were dragged into another memory.


	58. Starlight & Scars

**Hey, another chapter posted, another one will be following real soon. I'm not sure about this one so please tell me what you think, I hope that you enjoy and thanks so much for everyone that has continued to read this, I've said it so many times but it's true, it really does mean a lot :)**

* * *

Starlight and moonlight glittered on the water turning it silver in the darkness. It was such a clear night, the moon full and bright, sprinkles of stars dotting the black, the air crisp and fresh as she filled her lungs with it greedily. This was freedom, all moments with Edward were, and she found herself grinning broadly at his back, which was beaded with silver drops of water that dripped down the multitude of scars that marred his skin.

This was a world all their own, the dense forest drawing the darkness around them, blotting out the sounds of the village and any sound that might have filtered down the hill from the Manor. All the evil she had seen paled into nothingness, unable to make it through the press of the trees, getting lost in the rich foliage, losing its grip on her heart.

He ran his hands through his hair and she smiled at the delicate sound of droplets of water rippling across the surface of the lake, almost musical in the clearing. She stepped out of the line of trees quickly untying her robe and making short work of her dress; shedding it as she shed all her worries and concerns, all the darkest thoughts and standing naked, the warm air whispering through her hair. She walked toward the edge of the lake silently, her heart bursting with the love she felt for the man before her. There were only good things when she was with him; how he made her feel, how his breath would mark her skin, how he knew her heart and how he understood her. He would always leave his cares behind too, an unspoken promise between them that she was grateful for.

"Alas the night draws swiftly in and I must see my love." Edward muttered, amusement lacing his voice as he slowly turned to her an easy smile spreading across his face, eyes opening wide in wonder at the sight of her stood before him. She took in a deep breath and smiled back; she knew that she would never get used to the way in which he worshipped and adored her with every look, every word and touch. She marvelled at how quickly it had become so easy to be this free with him, no shame in her nakedness, in fact, she found herself walking taller because of his love, head held high, a strange power coursing through her veins at how beautiful she felt around him, how she made him weak and strong in his love for her.

Mina stepped into the cool water, sucking in a breath at the chill, goosebumps erupting along her arms. But Edwards' arms were warm as they encircled her waist, warm and strong and littered with scars that she traced with the tips of her fingers.

Edward had the body of a warrior, there was no doubt about it, everywhere she touched or kissed was sliced with a scar, some of them faint, almost pearlescent in the low light, others jagged and harsh as if they snarled at her from his skin, roaring their pain as she tried to soothe them. Sometimes she wondered at that side of him, how he looked when he fought. She sometimes mulled over thoughts of him caught in battle, how fierce and unmatched he would be, how strong. It never ceased to make her breath quicken and her cheeks warm, even though she knew nothing of that side of him, she'd imagined it and she felt as if she already adored it, already craved it.

Hermione was mortified, uncertain what to do with the turmoil of emotions roiling about in the pit of her stomach. The sight of a naked Edward was something she hadn't quite prepared herself for. Rough around the edges and all the manlier for it, lean and muscular and so clearly in love with Mina that it almost made her heart hurt. Still just because it was beautiful and magical that they had a love that quite clearly had somehow stood the test of time, all the time, she really did not want to see it all first hand and, being privy to such an intimate moment felt somewhat wrong.

"Mina." He muttered her name with reverence, lips slanting over hers, and Hermione's thoughts were overcome with the sheer taste of him, how Mina craved it. He tasted like love and promise and secrets, it was heady and made Mina gasp, grasping at his shoulder and clinging, desperate for time to stop, for theirs to be the only reality.

"I missed you." She breathed, and he seemed to grumble, forehead pressing into hers as if he wanted them to become fixed and never have to be apart again.

"And I missed you, missed this." He mumbled, brushing his lips against the column of her neck, making her hum contentedly. She tipped her head back further, muttering his name as his tongue traced the length of her collarbone, his fingers dancing along her side.

She was caught almost off guard by the faintest glow emanating from his clothes that had been piled on the shoreline, a purple glow that spoke of magic.

"What's that?" She whispered, trying her best to get a better look over his shoulder, struggling to clear the fog that his ministrations had created in her mind.

"What's what?' He asked, smiling smugly when the scrape of his teeth made her moan breathily.

"That?" She pointed, and he followed her finger allowing himself a big sigh.

"My clothes." He shrugged moving to kiss her again, looking almost wounded when she stepped back, creating some distance between them.

"You know of what I speak." With a sigh, he tipped his head to the side.

"It's nothing, now come back here."

"Now I know it is hardly that, Edward." She admonished, moving towards the shore, wriggling from his grasp every time he tried to reach for her.

"Do you now?"

"Yes, yes I do." She said over her shoulder, almost floored by the blue of his eyes trailing every inch of her skin. He groaned lightly, almost begging when he spoke.

"Just come back, it's only a rock, just a normal, boring, glowing rock."

"Now that does not sound normal or boring," Mina muttered, digging through the clothes, smiling wistfully to herself when her bending over elicited another groan.

"It is, I assure you, now come back to me."

Mina's breath caught when she dug the rock from the confines of its clothes, the centre of it glowing brightly. It hummed with the muted song of magic and the light it created painted her fingers a light purple. Hermione recognised it instantly from Draco's had description the night before. Edward had found a pile of them hidden beneath the home in which Tharin had taken refuge. She felt almost proud of the Slytherin, he had spared almost no detail and the rock appeared much as Hermione had imagined it. She quickly tried to distract herself from thoughts of the blonde boy, silently hoping that the Sensieve's magic hadn't rendered them both naked, she had no idea how they would be able to act naturally if such a thing were to occur.

"Where did you find it?" Mina asked, turning her attention to Edward who quickly ran his fingers through his hair before giving her a look that told her the answer was not a subject he wished to talk about.

"I have not seen this in a long time." She muttered, stepping back into the water, holding the rock between them and being momentarily mesmerised at how the shine of it glittered in Edwards' eyes, how it painted his skin as it had painted her own and made him look as if he was not of the earth.

"You know what it is?" He asked hopefully, his fingers ghosting her hips and making her sigh.

"Well, it is a rock." She answered with a smile and he splashed water at her half-heartedly.

"Alas, my fair maiden, I knew that already." He commented drily, grinning at her with mirth.

"And that faint glow is magic." Edward gently took it from her hands holding it close to his face before looking at her.

"How?" Mina shrugged, letting her hands wander over him, watching in fascination as his stomach jerked at the contact.

"No one really knows. I know very little about the subject but magic…magic is everywhere, in everything and sometimes it simply gets absorbed into rocks." Edward nodded slowly.

"Sonyea tell you this?" Mina stilled for a moment, partly at the mention of her friend, the other part because she realised that Edward still did not know that side of her. Yes, he knew that she was sympathetic to magic users, wanted to help them with her last breath, but he knew nothing of her own magic. Sometimes she thought about telling him, revealing that part of herself for him to love and cherish, but something always stopped her.

"Hmm." She answered non-committedly. "I don't…" He breath hitched when Edward stepped forward, his fingers tracing patterns on her hips, drawing them all the way to the underside of her breast. "I don't know whether they can be used for much, but some…" His thumb delicately traced the curve of her breast and she shivered despite the cold.

"Do you wish me to tell you all I know." She mocked half-heartedly as he gently kissed her, lips curling into a small smile.

"I wish a lot of things, especially when you look so…" the words seemed to get stuck in his throat and Mina grinned.

"So?" Edward stared at her, his blue eyes seeming to darken, and Mina giggled. It had become quickly apparent that while Edward often spoke of many things that made her heart soar, when they were together, all these words often devolved into guttural noises that made her toes curl.

"So beautiful." He muttered, hiding his face in her shoulder as he smiled. Mina let her fingers run through his hair and he hummed, shoulders relaxing.

"Why can't I just take you away, fall into the night. We'd be far from here before anyone would know." It was a phrase he always said, sometimes softly as if bestowing a secret wish or other times loudly with great hope, like it could and would be possible if only they'd just do it. Tonight, it was a tired sigh, like the sleepy sound of a man sinking before a fire at the end of a long day.

"Do you wish to know more." She asked quietly, turning her head slightly to him.

"You said you knew very little." His eyes glinted mischievously, a playful blue that made laughter bubble in her stomach.

"Little could still be of help, no?" With a sigh, he stepped back, gesturing that she should continue.

"As I was saying, some people have been known to use the stones for healing purpo…" Mina stopped, her mouth open in shock as Edward smacked the surface of the water, sending a great wave of it over her head.

"You talk an awful amount for someone that knows very little" There was a moment of quiet before she let out a wild shriek, pushing water towards him and huffing when he easily swam out of the way, a cheeky grin on his face. The stone was discarded into the water, the glow of it turning the water around them a faint purple, the depths of the lake clearly visible.

Mina went to flick water at him again, but he caught her wrist, drawing her towards him, looking down at her as though everything began and ended there, with them.

"No more anything else, just this." She couldn't be sure he'd said it as he uttered it so quietly, but then his mouth was on hers, hands on her hips, the pads of his thumb brushing burning circles on her stomach. He grabbed her thighs, smirking when she shrieked, and drew her legs around his waist walking them back to the shore, his steps sure, his kisses never faltering in their hunger.

When he lay her down on the earth and muttered her name over and over, his mouth breathing life onto every inch of her skin, Mina thought she had never felt so worshipped, so cherished.

"I love you." He muttered it into the shell of her ear; her secret, their secret, secret like their meetings, like the way they met and moved as one, their bodies just puzzle pieces to a better picture, that felt so good she hardly found the words to voice it, cries leaving her throat as she tried and failed to express all that he made her feel. She let her legs fall further apart as he drew her closer; there were no nerves anymore, not like there used to be, only excitement, an expectation, a feeling of rightness that settled over her like serenity.

* * *

Hermione's breaths were quick as the memory abruptly ended and Draco was over her, pressed between her legs in the same way that Edward had pressed against Mina. She was shocked when the feeling did not disgust her but simply continued in that curling warmth that alighted all her nerve endings with a fierce energy that made her very aware of his warm breath on her neck, heavy and panting just like her own.

He shifted and they both gasped, the pressure of the Sensieve's magic seeming to make him choke as if holding back a sob. And then he wrenched himself from her, turning his back and hastily adjusting. He cleared his throat loudly, running his fingers through his hair, tugging the ends as if it would override any other feelings.

Hermione silently thanked the magic for not relieving them of their clothes, though hers were all kinds of dishevelled and his own looked significantly rumpled they were still, mercifully, there.

She supposed she should have expected this, should have known that Edwards and Mina's relationship could have posed a significant issue considering the experiences they'd had in the Sensieve before. Still, she had not expected it to feel this good, to look at Malfoy and imagine what he would look like, waist deep in water, pale moonlight ghosting his pale skin. He'd be different from Edward that was a guarantee, but she found herself biting her lip at the thought of it, the sheer want to know.

He turned quickly his eyes widening and a strangled sound leaving his throat before he quickly turned away again, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. Hermione found herself momentarily mortified with herself, had she seriously been fantasising about Draco Malfoy, wondering what he would look like naked. Her mouth dropped open and she shook her head, assuring herself that it was just the Sensieve's influence, just her own mind adjusting to being back in her own body, with her own thoughts. She hoped that Draco hadn't been able to see the thoughts she was experiencing written clearly on her face, hoping he hadn't read into her lower lip being tucked wantonly between her teeth. The very thought of Malfoy having any inkling of how she thought or felt about him filled her with unbelievable dread.

Quickly she rose, adjusting her skirt and determined that, though shaky legged and uncertain, she would not be phased. They were going to see the memories through to the end, even if some of the memories did leave them in somewhat compromising positions. It was nothing that she couldn't handle.

"Well we are no further forward, but at least they had some happy memories." Hermione cast a glance at Malfoy and despite everything found herself biting back laughter. He was looking at her as though she had sprouted another head.

"I don't see what's so funny." He muttered, but a small smile was curling the ends of his lips and Hermione found herself blinking rapidly when she thought seriously about tasting them. It wasn't like she hadn't before, and she reckoned that his laughter would taste sweet, like ice cream


	59. Dragon Pox

_Dragon Pox, Crabbe and Goyle with Dragon Pox. Naked Crabbe and Goyle eating cake with Dragon Pox._ Draco winced at his own thoughts but let out a breath of relief when he was no longer pitching the largest of unmagical tents in his trousers. He ran his fingers through his hair concentrating on the snag and pull of the knots.

The Memories just weren't playing fair. If he wasn't getting stabbed, he was having someone else's wet dream of a memory and waking up to his own startlingly real version of it. Granger breathing heavily, his chest brushing against hers as they breathed together, her neck just millimetres from his lips and sweet Ancient Wizarding Ways of Merlin he'd been pressed between her legs, skirt hoisted up as though they just hadn't been able to wait, hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other. And when he thought about it they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other; it had been Grangers lips on his, not Mina's, it would have been her hands grasping at him desperately, her thighs wrapped around his waist, the needy press of her against…

 _Dragon pox, Crabbe, and Goyle riddled with all the dragon pox whilst eating cake, whilst eating cake with Umbridge. Naked they're all naked!_ Taking a shaky breath, he whirled around and instantly wished he hadn't.

As if the burn of naked Mina on his retinas wasn't enough, now he had the sight of Hermione; cheeks red, lips wonderfully swollen, clothes rumbled, and skirt lifted to give him a more than pleasing view of her thighs. He'd almost forgotten how good they looked; memories of summer flickering vaguely in the back of his mind as he took in the sight before him. And Merlin what a sight, it made him want to sink back into previous positions and continue where left off because she was beautiful, stunning and he was a male teenage wizard.

This all felt new, too new, like everything he'd already felt about Granger had been doubled, trebled, because yes, Merlin he'd wanted her before, but now, now he _wanted_ her. The noise he made was involuntary and sounded somewhat like a wounded animal. When he turned away he couldn't call to mind his naked friends eating cake with a demon amongst witches, because they paled into nothingness when compared to the sight of Know-It-All-Granger looking…looking, he fumbled for words and came up with nothing. He wanted to curse the Sensieve at the same time as hugging it and kissing it to within an inch of its bowl life. It was bad enough that he couldn't keep away from her, now he would have this little nugget of a moment on constant replay. He could have cried.

"Well we are no further forward, but at least they had some happy moments." He couldn't believe how calm she was, how composed, as if he hadn't just been hovering over her, as if they hadn't just seen two people from the past practically have sex, front row seats to that little shin-dig. To make it worse her shoulders started shaking with suppressed laughter.

"I don't see what's so funny." And he didn't but the sight of her smile made it virtually impossible not to smile too. She blinked at him a couple of times before shaking her head.

"Your face." She finally managed to say, spluttering somewhat half-heartedly.

"Full of compliments aren't you Granger?"

"Mmmhmm." Something about the way she hummed it made it difficult to laugh anymore because the air was heavy with something he didn't have a name for and she was looking at him like she could feel it too.

"We should get back." She said quickly, turning to the door and he nodded, hesitating only a moment before following her.

They walked silently for a while, Draco's hands in his pockets as he scuffed his shoes along the stone, trying desperately not to think about Granger waist deep in her own lake, looking at him the way Mina had looked at Edward, bottom lip distractingly tucked between her teeth.

"So…," Hermione stated, her voice standing unusually uncertain and he felt a flicker of hope that the whole situation had left her flustered too. He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck and casting a quick glance her way. She was blushing prettily right up to her mane of hair and that sight made his grin widen, a matching blush colouring his cheeks.

"About earlier." She muttered, and his smile dropped, she was talking about their argument; the usual crap they seemed to go on about every time they tried to have a conversation.

"Ah the time-turner worthy conversation," He muttered sarcastically, and Hermione sighed. There was no anger or malice between them anymore, only a tiredness that seemed to settle on their shoulders and a strange energy in the air that made it difficult to look at her.

"You do realise I have other things to worry about than…" She gestured vaguely between them, "this whole situation."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, OWLS are coming up and we have the worst teacher imaginable shoving basic defence against the dark arts down our throats, and Harry…." She petered out, realising that she probably shouldn't be talking to Malfoy about Harry. Draco only rolled his eyes

"Of course, Potty, it's always something to do with that, Scarface." Hermione glared at him and he paused taking a deep breath. "Potter, what?" Hermione sighed.

"Oh, come on, it's not like _you_ haven't heard the rumours." Draco didn't say anything but grimaced slightly; there was no doubt that the Slytherin common room was usually abuzz with rumours pertaining to the Gryffindor golden boy, most of which questioned his sanity and there was no doubt that he'd started some of them, hardly recognising them when they made their way back to him.

"So…you believe him then, about…you know?" Draco sniffed, feeling weirdly uncomfortable with the fact that Scarface was right, and he knew it. It was strangely difficult to square that realisation away in his mind.

"Of course, I do, why would he lie about something so terrible." She whirled around to face him, pointing her finger right in his face. "Something, something bad is coming and this time, this time we aren't going to be ready."

She looked worried and all he wanted to do was smooth the wrinkle of it on her forehead with his thumb, draw her face close to his and press his lips right against hers. Instead, he looked down at his shoes, once again scuffing one against the stone floor.

"Woah, Granger, okay," He held up his hand and Hermione slowly lowered her finger. With a shrug, Draco met her gaze.

"Kind of makes you wish there was a Lady Greengrass lurking around." He chuckled, the laughter dying quickly as he thought of his girlfriend, probably back in the common room talking to Theo. He really, really didn't want to think about her, not with Granger in front of him.

It took Hermione a while to understand his statement and even longer to realise what it meant. Bar the fact that she comfortable with him batting about his girlfriend's family name, she realised that he actually listened to her. He had remembered all the memories she'd recounted to him, even the little details. His statement had given her an idea, or the start of an idea.

"Yeah," she muttered thoughtfully, "it is a shame." She looked up at him and blushed instantly at the sight of him looking down at her, smiling in the softest most wonderful way.

Quickly he looked away, coughing uncomfortably and scratching the back of his neck, which seemed to be itching all night.

"I guess…I guess I better, you know, get going." He mumbled pointing behind him awkwardly and taking two steps back.

Hermione felt herself begin to panic a little; he was leaving and all they'd done was argue and she didn't remotely feel like arguing anymore. Strangely she felt as though she wanted to step into his space and breathe him in like Mina had with Edward only moments before. The heady scent of Edward had been like nothing she could have described to anyone, but it had felt like a whole world of things, breathing it had elicited all the comfort of home, the same heart-stopping excitement Mina felt with every kiss and a desire that was shocking in its intensity. As she watched the Slytherin walkway she wondered if breathing Draco would feel the same.

"Malfoy." She shouted his name and instantly regretted it. Firstly, there was nothing she could think to say to him, her mind too busy berating her for the rather sickening train of thought she'd hopped aboard merrily and secondly, she was struck dumb by the hope on his face when he'd turned to her.

"What can I do for you, Granger?"

She absurdly found herself giggling when he wiggled his eyebrows. Giggling? It was as if she had entered some nightmare where Lavender 'boy-mad' Brown had taken over her body. Even Malfoy seemed moderately surprised, pausing a little as he walked back towards her, a strange expression crossing his face.

"Granger."

"Hmmm." She answered hoping that her voice didn't betray the fact that the way he was looking at her made her heart beat super-fast in her chest.

"Granger look I've…" He paused when he turned his head, eyes widening in horror.

"Oh, shitting Merlin, hide!" He hissed stepping into her space and bustling her down the corridor to the nearest door, which once again turned out to be, yet another Broom Cupboard. The fact that they always seemed to find them in their hour of need, was not lost on either of them.

"What the…?" Hermione mumbled but stilled into silence when Draco raised his fingers to his lips and she realised they looked super soft and were a lot closer than normal.

She stepped away dizzily as she realised her lavender-Esche imaginings had come true – his scent was almost overpowering. It was nothing like Edwards, but nothing like anything else either. She wondered how she hadn't noticed it before, because it was amazing, exhilarating and, she kind of wanted to step closer and bury her nose in his sweater.

"He can't see me with you," Draco muttered to himself as he leant down to peak through the keyhole, freezing when he realised the present company.

"What?" Hermione's daze was lifting somewhat, her eyes sharpening as she focused her gaze on the side of his face.

He straightened quickly, glancing around at their surroundings; old models of broomsticks that looked as though they'd struggle sweeping a floor let alone flying, buckets and various odds and ends that appeared to have once to belonged to something, but what that something was, was anyone's guess.

"How many are there of these things…looks a bit like the last one," he paused a moment running his hand over the bricks behind him, "might even be the last one." He gave Hermione a small rueful smile and for a moment he thought that his distraction had worked its magic.

"Nineteen."

"What?" Draco tipped his head closer.

"There are Nineteen of these cupboards throughout the castle, not counting the two which are hidden."

"Nineteen. That doesn't seem right." He whispered back, genuinely stumped by the answer.

"It's in Hogwarts a History, now, tell me what you said."

"Hogwarts a Hist - Merlin I really need to read that book."

"Malfoy," She warned, her whisper somehow sounding more threatening than her actual voice.

"Think there's a copy of it at home."

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped into his space, watching with a certain amount of triumph as Draco sucked in a breath. Tingles of magic spark at all the places their bodies touched, and Hermione was almost distracted again, taken back to the situation they'd been stuck in only moments before, his body pressed flush against hers…She shook her head slightly, her gaze turning steely as she looked up at him.

"What did you say?"

Draco sighed, running his hand through his hair and leaning his shoulders against the bricks behind him, hoping to create at least some distance between them.

"Snape."

"What about him?"

"He can't see us together." Hermione had thought he's initially said something to that extent, but the idea of it had been ludicrous.

"But we're prefects," she muttered dumbly, cursing herself for not at least sounding like her usual intelligent self. Draco sighed, lifting his hand to once again rearrange his hair, the tips of his fingers brushing her arm.

"It has nothing to do with us been prefects."

"What is it to do with the…" Her voice petered off when they heard Snape's footsteps approaching. She could feel Draco's gaze on her and, when she looked at him, she felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

There were moments, rare moments, when everything pretentious and pompous about Draco Malfoy seemed to melt from him, dropping out of existence as if it had never infuriated her, leaving all the good that he was, all the good that he could be to smack her around the face and leave her dumbfounded. Standing there in yet another broom cupboard she experienced one of those moments. He was staring at her like he saw everything he wanted within her eyes, the way Edwards' eyes had found Mina's and looked into them with such; want, need, lust, love, heartache, wonder, beauty…she could go on, and all of it felt like a little too much for their small space.

She stepped back, and the spell seemed to break, Draco Malfoy shut up shop and looked away, his jaw clenching as he looked at the door and Snape's footsteps faded. After a moment of silence, he answered her.

"I can't tell you."

"What do you mean you can't tell me?" Hermione whispered back furiously as Draco slowly opened the door and poked his head round it.

"You're a smart witch, Granger, what do you think it means." He stepped out of the cupboard quietly and Hermione hastened to follow him.

"Why can't you tell me?" He put his finger to his lips, hoping to keep her voice from rising to that shrill level she so liked to abuse his ears with. Hermione's attention was once again drawn to his lips, her thoughts mildly interrupted by questions over the feel and the taste. She gritted her teeth and looked at him furiously.

"Will just you tell me?"

"Always with the questions," Draco muttered, shaking his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips, "Look I would if I could."

"Of course, you would," Hermione scoffed in disbelief, hands flying to her hips.

"I would. Look, Granger, as hard as this is for you to believe and trust me, it's pretty hard for me to believe too, I want to tell you, I really do." Hermione was shocked to find herself actually believing him. It all seemed so strange, she felt as though she was still within the memory, holding the mysterious rock towards Edward, watching him shake his head in reply to the simple question of _Where did you find it?_ That was not for their time, maybe this was not for theirs.

"Honestly Granger, if I could, I would." He assured her again.

"Really?" Draco smiled that small, kind smile that made her heart ache, stepping forward and brushing the pad of his thumb against her cheek. The dizziness returned, and she could have sworn she swayed a little into his touch.

"Faster than you can say Veritaserum." His palm was now warm against her cheek, his fingers getting lost in her curls and brushing the back of her neck, making her shiver. She wondered if it was her heart or his she could feel racing against her skin because the tips of his fingers seemed to vibrate with the ferocity of his heartbeat. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to know, but she couldn't find her voice.

"Do you ever think about it?" He was looking at her lips and she just knew that he was talking about the kiss. She wanted to tell him that she did think about it, that she replayed it over and over in her mind and embarrassing amount. Instead sucked in a breath, her gaze dropping to his lips.

"Think about what?" He stepped closer, lifting his other hand to trace circles on her other cheek with the tips of his fingers. Draco Malfoy was going to kiss her again, she was certain, and she found herself leaning forwards, eyes half lidded because damn it, she wanted it strangely more than she'd wanted a kiss from anyone.

"Think abou…"

"Mione?" Draco ripped himself away from her as if he'd been burnt, stepping right back as footsteps rushed towards them. Hermione stood still, her eyes widening as she realised just how utterly out of it she had been. She hadn't even noticed Ginny's footsteps, but then again neither had he. They'd almost…he'd almost.

"Mione, are you okay?" Ginny asked, glancing between her and Draco, a somewhat knowing glint appearing in her eyes.

Hermione turned to her friend quickly, hoping that she didn't appear too flushed and knowing, from the look Ginny appraised her with, that she did indeed look thoroughly flushed.

"I'm…I'm fine, we were just…erm…finishing prefect duty."

"Yes, well," Draco cleared his throat, "If that's all I best, erm…I better make my move. Granger." Hermione did not miss how softly he said her name or the way his eyes lingered on hers before looking behind her and nodding curtly "Weasley."

Ginny crossed her arms, a smug grin creeping onto her face.

"So…prefect duty, huh?" Hermione bristled grabbing her friends arm and pulling her towards their common room.

"What are you doing, you could get caught." She tried to admonish, knowing that she didn't really have a leg to stand on.

"Yes, there's an awful lot of that going on round here," Ginny mused laughing lightly when Hermione narrowed her eyes at her, "besides, you're 'out and about'"

"I'm a prefect, I had rounds."

"Working your way around Malfoy's mouth." Hermione's mouth dropped open at Ginny's words, a blush reddening her cheeks once again.

"I was…there was…nothing happened, okay?"

"Was that because of me?" Ginny asked, horrified, if Hermione didn't know better she would have believed that her friend wanted her to pursue Malfoy.

"Well I…I mean, no, I wouldn't have let anything happen." Hermione was not even the slightest bit convinced by her own argument.

"Yeah, it looked like you were going to stop it."

Hermione was caught between wanting to scream and wanting to laugh. She'd almost been kissed by Draco Malfoy, again; it was unbelievable, terrible, probably going to end it some sort of pain and heartbreak, but she was so overwhelmed by it all that she found herself fighting the urge to grin. He had a girlfriend, but he'd stepped closer to her, looked at her as though she was something he couldn't look away from. She felt giddy with a strange sort of happiness that she knew she shouldn't have been feeling.

"Mione, you okay?" Ginny asked warily, watching curiously as a smile grew on her friends face and laughter fell from her mouth in obvious delight.

"You know, I'm not entirely convinced I didn't just catch a Polyjuiced Lavender trying to seduce Malfoy." Hermione snorted in disbelief but grinned at her friend.

"I'm not entirely convinced you didn't either."

"What happened? Was it the Sensieve again?"

Hermione couldn't believe how fast the happiness left her like something heavy and horrid had fallen down and crushed it so quickly that it crumpled out of existence. The heavy weight stayed in the pit of her stomach though, making her feel a little bit sick. She couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of that, instead, she'd got swept along like some love-sick idiot and nearly swooned at his feet.

"Mione, what's the matter?" Ginny asked, worry evident on her face as she pulled them to a standstill.

"I guess the Sensieve just affected us both again." Hermione muttered, and Ginny pursed her lips.

"Did it?" Hermione knew what she was asking, she was asking whether her reaction to Malfoy had been because of a magical bowl, whether the dizziness, the breathlessness, the warm glow on her cheeks when she thought about kissing him, had been to do with a magical bowl. Hermione stared down at her feet then looked back up at her friend knowing that she couldn't lie. She shook her head slowly.

"No, not for me anyway." Ginny eyes filled with sadness for her friend, arms reaching out to her and drawing her into a hug. It was moments like this that Hermione saw so much of Mrs Weasley in her daughter, so much kindness and love. Hermione found herself glad that she'd told Ginny everything, knowing that somehow she would not be able to face all the weird and wonderful feelings alone.


	60. Face of Darkness

Sorry, it's taken me so long to update. Thanks so much for being so patient with me. Hope that you enjoy it, promise there will be plenty more Draco and Hermione moments :). Also, a warning, looking at what I've got planned with this story, it's going to be really long, so be warned! :D Hope you enjoy the chapter and once again thanks for all your follows and reviews. :)

* * *

Draco's heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest and make its merry way back to Granger, where kissing would ensue regardless of the Weaselette. While he did, in fact, realise that his actions could be considered the complete opposite of what had been advised over and over, he really couldn't seem to find a single ounce of care within in. He'd been about to kiss her again and she'd looked like she wanted it; leaning forward, her eyes glassy and half-lidded in the most tempting way.

Merlin, he was making life hard for himself. Bad enough that he wanted her as bad as he did, now he was full of delusions of her wanting him back, and by Salazar, they were fantastic delusions. Like all the magical holidays come at once. He couldn't get his head around the fact that _she_ had called _him_ back, not the other way around. He wasn't on his knees begging her to give him the time of day, he'd been about to sink into some comfortable dreams about Granger and what might be hiding under her robes when she'd called his name. She'd stepped toward him like some magical force was gently nudging her. He'd been holding her face, drawing her closer and she'd smelt like strawberries and now, he was pretty sure that smell was all he needed to breathe. Oxygen? Who needed that?

"Draco." He could have cried when Pansy's voice echoed down the corridor, the small brunette striding towards him with purpose, a rather bored looking Blaise trailing behind her.

"Ah Pans, I wondered when you were going to show up. You're about five minutes past things just getting interesting, should have been more specific when reporting my nightly activities to you." He held up his hands as he shrugged, his innocent smile wavering slightly when Pansy didn't look angry, only mildly worried.

"Snape is looking for you." Her voice simply reeled of the information, reporting the mundane with no hint of the worry and concern shimmering in her eyes.

Why wouldn't Snape be looking for him? It wasn't entirely unheard of for Snape to simply drop by unannounced and ask to see a student who would later return to his or her friend somewhat paler than when they left. He'd given up on Crabbe and Goyle however, the boys didn't frighten easy and when they did they simply consumed more, their grades remained piteously low.

Draco fought a small smile as he looked down at his friend, her brows slightly dipped in concern. Pansy could be a hard ass, could annoy the hell out of him, but, Merlin, the witch cared more than any Slytherin he'd ever met. Of course, if he ever paid her that compliment, she'd snort derisively and tell him that it was only her own, only the Slytherins. Draco felt incredibly blessed to be considered as one of Pansy's own.

"You know, I'm sure we could have waited till he got back to tell him that," Blaise commented drily, nodding once to Draco in greeting, while Pansy stepped forward and hugged Draco tightly.

"Snape said it was urgent."

"Did he?" Blaise looked confused, staring at the stones beneath his feet as if they held some unfathomable riddle that he just couldn't seem to wrap his head around. His mouth formed the shapes of words, but no sound came out, mouthing his way through a conversation that he didn't seem to want to share with the rest of them.

"Are you sure? Because I swear he…"

"He did okay? Now leave it." Pansy snapped, and Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"Well, sod this, I didn't traipse out here to risk getting caught by Filch, to get yelled at."

"You wouldn't have got caught, you'd have been with me," Pansy said, but her voice sounded defeated as Blaise turned on his heal and stormed away from them.

"You know, I should deduct points for you being out," Draco called and chuckled when Blaise didn't even turn but lifted his middle finger as he disappeared around the corner.

"Gah, I feel bad for yelling at him." Pansy sighed.

"So you should, the poor guy did nothing. If anything, he kept you company on your little excursion…again." It hadn't fallen past most people's notice that Blaise, while being womanizer extraordinaire and Slytherin to the point of not caring, always found time for Pansy Parkinson. Always.

"It's your fault." Pansy admonished, her pug nose twitching just the slightest bit. He imagined that other guys might have found the action vaguely cute.

"Yeah, awfully sorry about that, my wand slipped and I accidentally Imperiused you, ah well…" he shrugged, "it happens." Pansy raised her eyebrows at his sarcasm.

"We couldn't have him figuring anything out, asking questions."

"No, that would be unusually Pansy-like for him."

"It's okay, you don't have to thank me, just looking out for your well-being, but whatever…"

"Oh wow, I can almost hear the violins. Particularly sad and woeful number that, what's it called? Woe is me?" He chuckled as Pansy hit him, doing his best not to wince. Pansy did not understand the concept of hitting anything lightly.

"How was it?" she asked, her smile dropping, and Draco tried his best to quickly hide the tell-tale signs of nearly kissing Granger, that he was sure Pansy-sniff-out-a-lie-Parkinson could see.

"Fine." He shrugged casually, wincing when her eyes narrowed. Casual had not been the way to go.

"In what way?"

"In the, I was walking around the castle and didn't happen to run into Peeves, kind of way."

"Hmm." She was inspecting him, leaning closer and taking in all the twitches and flickers of emotion on his face and somehow translating them.

"You saw her didn't you." It wasn't a question, she knew. There was a certainty in her eyes and Draco had a sneaky suspicion she'd known before his poor attempt at lying. Amongst others he was a wizard of believable untruths, waxing lyrical the most heinously fabricated stories and leaving people certain that they were 100% truthful. But Pansy, Pansy was sharp and watched and spent her many Hogwarts years compiling a tome of all Slytherin tells. No one could realistically lie to Pansy and get away with it. She would find out one way or another.

"Might have caught a glimpse." He attempted and watched as Pansy's eyes widened.

"Oh Merlin, you kissed her, again didn't you?"

"What, how in Merlin's name did you get that from what I said? No, no I didn't." Pansy did not seem convinced, raising her one eyebrow just like he would have done, and it infuriated him. For some strange reason though, he kept talking, his mouth running away with him.

"Would have done though, if Weaselette hadn't shown up."

"The ginger saw you?" Pansy looked as though she were about to burst.

"Now that's just hairiest." He tutted, wagging his finger in her face.

"Draco, the Weaselette saw you, what's to stop her from telling other people. Blabbing it all round Gryffindor and then the whole school." For a moment Draco was filled with a strange kind of dread, he hadn't thought of that at all. He'd been too busy overloading his senses with Granger to even care that her red-headed friend would tell anyone. With uncertainty, he met Pansy's stare.

"I don't think she knew what was going on." Pansy laughed humourlessly.

"Right, of course. Have you seen how many guys she's locked lips with?"

"No." Draco drew back somewhat disgusted, also confused as to how Pansy had managed to get hold of the information.

"A fair few, you know considering who she is. I think she knows what two people about to kiss looks like."

"Really, a fair few?" Draco uttered shaking his head slightly, she wasn't the back end of a Skrewt by any stretch, but a Weasley? He couldn't quite wrap his head around the attraction.

"She does alright if you can believe it."

"Hah." He crossed his arms, his face matching the sound of disbelief that left his mouth. It seemed that even those in Gryffindor, the whole desperate-to-be-martyrs lot of them were getting to pucker up with who they wanted. The thought of it really rather sucked. Pansy began to pace, hunching her shoulders and muttering under breath.

"Stop pacing." He commanded, grabbing Pansy's shoulders and making her look up at him. "I'm pretty sure that Granger can do some damage control, she's good like that." He smiled slightly at the thought of her; finger jammed in someone's face, hand on hip, her eyes becoming lit with certainty, all bright brown and bloodie beautiful. She'd look fantastic and he weirdly found himself wishing he was the one getting put in place, it was facepalm worthy, but he couldn't help it.

"Oh Ewww, stop it, stop it now."

"What?" Draco stepped back with a shrug, eyes widening in innocence.

"Whatever disgusting thing you're thinking about Granger, stop it now."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seriously, Draco. I worry about you."

After a brief moment, she sighed, turning to walk back to their common room. It was late, approaching midnight and even they as prefects would have a difficult time explaining why they were having a conversation in the middle of the corridor. Pansy couldn't help but shake her head as she heard Draco follow her slowly. She had been expecting this, expecting some wavering towards the Mudblood since the start of the term, admittedly she'd expected it to take a little longer. Pansy blamed his father, it was obvious to whoever paid the slightest bit of attention that Lucius Malfoy had very little in the form of emotional care for his son, which meant that there was overcompensation galore. Draco Malfoy had wanted for absolutely nothing; if he saw it, by the end of the day it would be his. He didn't even have to particularly kick or scream all that much, just meet his mother's gaze and she'd see something, something like sadness and hurt and all the guilt would kick in. It was down to the hateful love that got packaged in the form of Theo and Blaise that had all but kicked the brat out of him. There were still moments, but they were incredibly rare. Wanting Granger, the way he did though, and not being able to have her, she guessed must be killing him. Backing out was an expectation but his next words made her chest tighten with panic.

"Maybe I should, you know, give the whole thing up with Greengrass. I mean, Pans, me and Granger it kind of feels…" He paused, wringing his hands together as he walked, not meeting her gaze.

"Kind of feels what?" She asked, her voice steely, not sure that she wanted to hear the rest of the sentence at all.

"Inevitable." He shrugged, finally looking at her, his hands digging into his pockets and Pansy got a little view of him without his aristocratic mask; tired worn beaten and still clinging onto the hope that he would give up his charade and he and Granger would fly off into the sunset with matching broomsticks.

"There is nothing inevitable about you and Granger. Unbelievable, out of absolutely nowhere, yes. But inevitable?" She let out a breathy laugh "I don't think so."

"You don't know that." Pansy faltered, looking up at Draco with shock. He had said it so seriously and with such authority, his usual mask in place but his eyes a steely grey that made her gulp.

"But you're…" He gestured to him, struggling to find the word, "You're…you're a Slytherin and she's…"

"She's what?" Draco crossed his arms.

"She's a Gryffindor," Pansy said in exasperation as if that explanation had been obvious as if it could be the only reason for anything.

"Right, so the house I get sorted into in school pre-ordains the rest of my life and relationships? Makes complete sense." He was pretty sure that Hermione had thrown a similar argument in his face and the fact that he was reusing it threatened to make him both smile and grimace. There she was in everything, putting her stamp on even his conversations, magically changing his viewpoints with the same ease as magically changing the colour of his hair.

"It doesn't make sense, but it's true." Pansy countered, gazing at one the tapestries that hung heavily on the wall, realising all at once that her argument was far truer than she wanted it to be because it was already happening all around them.

She knew the views of her friend's parents, heck she knew the views of her own parents and knew that a good number of them would ask _'how many'_ when the Dark Lord asked them to zap their merry way through Muggles and Mudbloods. The fact that they were all clubbed together seemed somewhat of an oversight. Blaise; with his overbearing mom who worked her way through marriages faster than anyone could say 'till death do us part'. Theo, with his strict and muggle hating parents, who almost put Draco's parents to shame with their overzealous views towards mass extinction. There had been many an evening spent at Theo's watching Mr Knott get steadily drunk and begin to outline his plans for the total destruction of the Muggle Race. His violent gesticulations would sometimes wallop their way across Theo's face _'accidentally'_ and they would all have to rush to the fireplace, Theo's cheeks burning with embarrassment as he bid them all his usual _'adieu._ Crabbe and Goyle, with the Mother's of all feeders, giving them sweeties instead of attention because that was just easier.

Oh, they were all there, some worse than others, the abuse of failed dominion over all of Magical kind patterning their skin in silvery discolouration's. One boy, older than her by a year, had held a little celebration as his father was dragged to Azkaban for finally giving up and killing his wife. When asked about sadness for his dearly deceased, he could only answer with half a grin, half a sneer, that she had been an evil bitch too.

Pansy figured it was easier to shove them all to the side than have to actually deal with the mess they created, what with the cunning and manipulative streak than most of them possessed simply because that's how they'd learnt to survive. Picking on and bullying others because for once in their miserable lives they felt powerful, felt like they were making an impact and putting the fear that had constantly pumped through their veins into someone else. And it felt, well it felt good. It was partly jealously too, jealousy that burned fiercely within them, a jealously they would never, for the life of them, admit. The Golden Gryffindors, the Puffy Hufflepuffs, the Regular little genius' in Ravenclaw, they wanted to be like them, to be one of them. The normal, the bright. She knew because she often wished it too, same faraway look in her eyes as she looked at the other houses sat down to eat, and noticed how wonderfully happy they all seemed, how wonderfully carefree. Then she'd tell herself so were they, shrug and go back to picking on one of the first years because it was funny and made her forget.

She had to admit that her parents were actually relatively normal, law of averages, there was bound to be at least one amongst them. They were just two magical people trying to navigate the ferocious world of the purebloods and somehow managing to fool most of them. Her parents were idiots but somehow, they were managing it and though they were not around very often when she finally went home for the holidays, they were not bad parents. They'd never laid a hand or spell on her ever.

Draco was looking at her as if he could see all that was going through her mind and the reality of it all was dawning on him. What choice did any of them have? A wounded animal hides, waits to die, waits to heal, shies away from the world and if ever it resurfaces, comes back a broken version of what it had been before. They had all been wounded and some continued to be and they'd built up their own little walls, made their own little hiding places, throwing insults and hate in order to keep everyone at bay. But Granger, she'd found a way in, at least where Draco was concerned, found a way in and was drawing him out of hiding. Pansy wondered how in Merlin's name she had done it.

"Draco, you know it's true." She reiterated with more certainty.

"It doesn't have to be."

"And what do you intend to do. Leave Greengrass? Run to Granger and confess all the wishy-washy feelings and hope she accepts?"

"Something like that." He muttered with a nod, her words seeming to confirm an idea he had already been formulating.

"That would not be a wise decision." A voice echoed around them making them both jump in terror.

Severus Snape seemed to materialise out of the darkness, the swish of his robes the only sound as he made his way towards them. Pansy saw Draco visibly gulp, anger and fear shimmering in his eyes making the strangest concoction of grey she had ever seen.

"Miss Parkinson, I believe it is time you were in bed." Pansy felt the usual swell of anger when someone told her what to do. She didn't get it from her parents, so she didn't see why she had to put up with it from witches and wizards that hardly knew her.

"But…"

"Another word and you will be scrubbing cauldrons in detention tomorrow evening."

"But…"

"I'll see you tomorrow Miss Parkinson, right after dinner."

Snape did not even bother to look in her direction once, his eyes trained on Draco. The gaze didn't even falter as she turned on her heel and stomped down the corridor.

"Quietly Miss Parkinson, or it will be two evenings."

Pansy paused, her body rigid with anger but she carried on her walk, this time with much quieter, lighter steps.

"You have been meeting Granger," Snape commented when Pansy had disappeared out of sight. It was not a question and Draco did not bother to utter anything in reply. "This will stop."

"But Prefect dut…"

"I will deal with the timetable," Snape said quickly.

"I want to see her." Draco's jaw was clenching so ferociously that the words barely made it out of his mouth, but Snape heard them his eyes widening an imperceptible amount.

"What you want and what is right are two very different things."

"How do you know?" He spat, sounding less and less like a petulant child and more like an adult. The change in the blonde was something of a surprise and it caught Snape almost unawares.

"Have you forgotten what I have shown you, it has happened before and if you carry on as you have been it will happen again." He didn't like to bring up the memory, didn't like to breathe any sort of reality into it, but it was important, he had to see the damage that could be done, the lives that could be ruined. In some ways, it was a relief to finally share the pain with someone, finally bare his soul in all honesty and show himself for what he truly was.

"So? So what if it's happened before? We could be different, we-we could change things." It was a feeble hope and they both knew it, but Draco found himself wanting to believe it. Maybe if he threw himself down before Dumbledore, before the powers that be, Merlin before Potty and pledged himself loyal to whatever cause let him be with Granger, maybe then they could send the Dark Lord scurrying back to whatever hole he'd crawled out of.

He felt a sting of guilt when he thought of his mother and surprisingly his father. They weren't evil, not to him, though his father, without a doubt gave it his best shot. They were just his parents, just his family, trying to do something right in their own warped way. He couldn't give them up, couldn't betray them and everything they stood for simply because he fancied a girl. Sure, she was a particularly rare and beautiful girl, but the point still stood.

"And what is it you would suggest, to change things?" Snape asked drily, but Draco thought he saw something that might have passed for hope flicker faintly in his eyes. Maybe Snape hoped that he, of all the people that had come before, had finally had an epiphany, a fate-changing epiphany that would make all their issues go away. Draco sighed and lowered his head, fate-changing epiphany he did not possess, only the deep aching longing for there to be something, anything that could magic their troubles away.

Snape turned commanding that Draco follow, and he did. With slumped shoulders and heavy footfalls, he followed the professor all the way to his office, having an inkling that it would be yet another lesson in staying away from Granger. But Snape didn't know how her hair smelt like strawberries, how her eyes were the deepest richest brown he'd ever seen and how, when she smiled at him everything in his life seemed that much brighter, that much better.

* * *

"You know, you keep looking like that your face will get stuck." Theo mocked, as he gazed at Blaise frowning furiously into the fire.

"Piss off, Knott, I'm not in the mood."

"Ooo, we are in for it now. Daphne, grab a seat you're about to witness something rarer than Malfoy admitting that he's wrong."

"What's that?" Daphne asked, smiling softly as she slipped into the seat beside Theo, their legs brushing for a moment making the brown-haired boy gulp.

"Beeny Boy mad." He casually placed his arm across the back of the chair and grinned at Daphne, enjoying the cheeky grin she gave him in return, the light dusting of blush on her cheeks.

"And that's rare?" She asked slowly, turning to take in the side of Blaise's head.

"The rarest, by buddy Beeny, has the patience of a saint, he has to, he's friends with me."

"I don't know, you're not that bad." Daphne demurred, and Theo laughed.

"Merlin, will you two shut the fuck up?" Blaise suddenly got up from his seat, hands clenching and unclenching, anger evident on his face.

"Mate, what's the matter." Theo was leaning back in his seat, his mouth opened slightly in shock.

"Nothing, just leave it."

"Oh, don't you start, we've had enough of that from Draco," Theo commented, ignoring the questioning glance from Daphne.

"I've had enough of hearing about that dick, okay, he's got his issues well so has everyone else." The rest of the Slytherins were turning to look at Blaise, whispers passed between them which Theo guessed were bets. It was a given that any possibility of a fight led to bets being placed. He'd won quite a few things due to such instances and one wonderful thing about his house was that they didn't bet low. Most from proud and noble families, they only had the best stuff, and being the brand of typically bored rich kid meant they didn't care if they lost it, in fact, that was half the fun.

"Woah, Blaise mate calm down." Theo stood up trying desperately to calm him, hands held out like he was trying to tame some new 'cute' animal Hagrid had thrown at them in care of magical creatures. Daphne was frowning up at Blaise as if suddenly realising she was on about her dearly beloved and therefore needed to be angry at him.

"Calm down? Calm the fuck down? Its always about him isn't it? Always. Ever second of every fucking day, Malfoy this, Malfoy that, we need to help Malfoy." Blaise mocked, and Theo paused because he suddenly realised that Blaise was on about Pansy.

"Mate are you…"

"Just leave it, I'm going to bed." Blaise walked off, stalking up the stairs his head lowered. Theo watched him go mildly confused, there seemed to be a lot of things going on with his friends that he didn't understand; Pansy's desperate obsession with keeping an eye on Draco, Draco's disappearing acts and now Blaise and his moods. He turned quickly as Pansy stepped through the door, her face like thunder.

"What's wrong with you?" He said almost absently, a clueless blinking expression on his face.

"Snape." She snapped, falling into the seat next to Daphne.

"Draco not with you?" The blonde asked peering at the door before turning questioningly to look at Pansy.

"He's with Snape, think he'll be back later."

"What's so important that he needs to talk to Draco now?" Theo asked, standing in front of the fire, letting it warm the backs of his legs. He shifted away uncomfortably when the stance reminded him of one his father liked to take when he began his tirades.

"Beats me." Pansy shrugged, glancing around the room at the other Slytherins, frowning as she saw their curious glances and the absence of one particular Slytherin. "Where's Blaise?"

"Well, Beany boy came back in a mood and then stomped off to bed, missed him by a few seconds."

Pansy groaned, her head sinking into her hands.

"I'll talk to him." She muttered, rising from the chair, and heading towards the stairs.

"What's this about?" Daphne muttered to Theo, leaning forward in the chair.

"That, Greengrass my dear, is the question." Daphne smiled at him and he found himself smiling back, sucking in a breath. He wanted to feel bad that Draco's girlfriend liked to spend time with him, that she smiled at him, laughed with him and that it made him feel slightly giddy, but he simply couldn't.

* * *

The room was dark and murky, smoke cloying the air in thick tendrils that made it impossible to see more a few feet in front of his face, the finer details of the room marred by the haze. Draco blinked several times, his eyes struggling to adjust to the dimness, Snape's office wasn't exactly the brightest of places, but the may as well have been on the sun with the contrast between the two rooms. He thanked Merlin that he was viewing the memory through a Pensieve, meaning that the wonderful sting that would have no doubt accompanied the smoke didn't bother him. It was only an impression of the past, a past that Snape had experienced and not him.

"You know, I keep seeing all these memories, there'll be no room for my own." He muttered, tapping his forehead half-heartedly with one finger.

"Quiet." Snape hushed him quickly, gesturing for Draco to follow him as he walked further into the gloom. He stopped abruptly, and Draco squinted, just about making out the fuzzy outline of a figure standing at the ender of the room, shoulders hunched, the robe pulled around it a midnight black that put Snape's to shame.

A younger version of Snape stepped around Draco and he found himself glancing between the two versions as he'd done before. There was very little that had changed about the dark-haired wizard over the years, still looking just as sour and miserable as ever. There was something though, something different that Draco couldn't quite pinpoint, more than just age and time, something heavy and unfathomable, a deep kind of sadness that he couldn't begin to understand.

"Severus, come to give me news of betrayal no doubt." The voice was strong, commanding, the echo of it moving through the room, making the smoke seem to dissipate. The dark figure was a young man, authoritarian in the way he looked down his nose at Severus, pride in the set of his shoulders that Draco vaguely recognised from his father.

"Yes, my lord, they were running, but we found them." The man sniffed at the news, pulling his wand out the folds of his robe and twirling it between his long pale fingers.

"Is that...?" Snape did not turn to Draco but simply nodded his head, his lips pressed tightly together into a thin pale line.

Draco knew of Thomas Riddle, the man who had become unnameable, the very act of uttering it sending fear into the most witches and wizards hearts. Still, he had not expected him to look so normal, so nice.

"Where?" Riddle made his way down the dark steps that Draco found worryingly familiar.

"Not far from, Arden, my lord. They planned to seek refuge there before moving on. No doubt hoping to outmanoeuvre us."

The Dark Lord seemed to be seething, his handsome face marred by his anger, frozen in a scowl that made him look every bit as evil as people suggested. Draco took a step back, but Snape reached out and grasped his arm, shaking his head. He would see whatever this memory held, whether he wanted to or not, the thought made him gulp.

There were many things that Snape had seen and done that he no longer wished to remember and this memory, well it had been one of them. It had gathered layers upon layers of dust, unopened and unviewed in his cupboard. Now it was important, very likely all that stood between Draco and him doing something utterly idiotic that would eventually get him and a lot of people he cared about killed. Snape also realised that he needed to see it again, needed to remember all that had happened, drawing him back to why he did what he did, why he chose to shoulder the burdens that he carried.

"Bring them to me." Draco finally realised where they were as the smoke lessened even further and he was able to take in the portraits lining the wall. They were in the ballroom of his home, long before his mother had added the colour and vibrancy of her character; without it, the place was drab and rather boring, but it was unmistakable. The same Malfoy ancestors gazed down with their unimpressed stairs, eyes twinkling with years of hatred that had been passed down so long that no one remembered why, the same black stairs lead up to a large balcony that overlooked rolling fields and the ruins of Arden far off in the distance, or as Draco knew it, Masarvas Manor; it was all the same.

"This is my home."

"Malfoy Manor, yes," Snape commented, watching as his younger self-nodded at his orders and left the room in his usual sweeping manner. Fog seemed to roll in from all sides, blotting out the hall and Thomas Riddle and leaving them lost in a swirl of grey.

"What's causing that?" Draco muttered, glancing around him, wondering why he could no longer see the floor.

"I have no memory of this because I wasn't here." He answered, seeming unimpressed that Draco had not been able to work it out for himself.

"Makes sense." Draco shrugged, hiding his embarrassment by squinting out into the grey, imagining that he could still make out the outline of Thomas Riddle.

"Hmm, yes it does." Snape seemed amused but said little afterwards, waiting patiently for the return of his younger self. Snape knew what had happened outside of the room, stood within the memory it all came rushing back. He'd felt so wonderfully powerful back then, so feared and revered. The Dark Lord had trusted him, had entrusted him with so much, and he had shown how worthy and how valuable he was. It was strange looking into the darkness of himself again, seeing it having the same face but feeling as sickened by it rather than empowered.

There was a scream from within the fog and Snape fought against the want to flinch, noticing how Draco did it out the corner of his eyes, the blonde turning his head to search the grey for its origin. The smoke began to clear, and Draco watched as the younger Snape walked forward, a younger man walking rigidly beside him.

"Imperius," Snape uttered, noticing the question look on Draco's face, the news did not seem to surprise him, but he cast wary glances at his teacher.

"Matty, my old friend," Thomas Riddle opened his arms wide, his wand held between his fingers, pointing down towards the floor, "come, tell me of your travels."

The Imperiused man shook, his whole body seeming to convulse as he fought against the magic that bound him in place. A swift nod in Snape's direction had him forcing the man forward, his legs moving stiffly and of their own accord as the man himself tried desperately to move backwards, his head jerking with the effort.

"Always were so very strong-willed, so very difficult." Riddle tutted, laughing good-naturedly, walking towards him and flinging an arm over his shoulder.

"I did not think that it would ever come to this, my friend. We do after all go back such a long way." There was blood leaking from the man's nose, a vibrant red against the greyness of the man's face. Rags hung from him in strips of worn material, damp and muddied, remains of the robes Draco knew death eaters had worn, knew because his father had shown him with a pride that even now he couldn't quite understand.

"The rest of them?" He muttered casually, and Snape seemed to bow slightly.

"Lucius is bringing them, my lord."

At that precise moment, there was a wail, so much more haunting than the scream. It tore through Draco and made his hair stand on end, goosebumps riddling his skin. His father entered the room, two men either side of him, one holding onto a woman that kicked screamed and struggled, her teeth bared in a ferocious snarl as she tried desperately to get at the other man who was holding her child. She was only young, matted brown hair on her head, dirt on her cheeks only interrupted by the tracks her tears had cleared. Her blue eyes were wide and searching, looking around the hall for some sort of clue as to what was happening to them, then she reached for her mother, small hand grasping at air as she began to cry.

Draco shook his head in disbelief as his father remained unmoved by the woman's cries, unfazed by the small child reaching out for her mother, quite clearly petrified. He wondered how anything like that was possible, his father had never struck him as needlessly evil; a proud man, yes, set very much in his ways that were as ancient as they were stupid, undoubtedly, but evil?

"Crucio." Draco did not miss the boredom with which the spell was uttered, as if the Dark Lord were simply clearing up a spill or mending torn robes. The woman dropped to the floor, her back arching painfully a scream ripping through the ballroom, followed by the desperate cry of her child. Draco winced, turning away as he remembered the pain of the curse, the feeling of a thousand knives digging into his flesh and twisting as they were pulled out. Like his insides were being ripped apart by an unseen hand and he could do nothing to stop it. The spell ended abruptly, and the woman slumped back onto the floor, hair plastered across her face and body contorted strangely, her one hand twitching towards her daughter.

"Martha," she gasped as the child cried again, "Martha sweetie, it's okay, mommy's alright." The child did not seem convinced, wiggling in the man's arms and reaching her small arms out even further.

"Knott get that baby under control." His father hissed and the man beside him nodded, grasping the child's arms and holding them down by its side painfully,

"Knott? As in Theo's father?" Draco asked, turning to Snape in disbelief. The wizard looked tired, his face as pale as the man that stood beside the Dark Lord.

"There were a great many of us at the start."

"But how did you…how could you…" He couldn't find the right words, but Snape seemed to understand.

"Not everything the Dark Lord did is known."

"Crucio." Draco jumped as the mother once again writhed on the floor, it became apparent that she had once again tried to lift herself up to her child, crawling closer to Theodore's father. When the curse ended her face thudded painfully to the floor, her body no longer moving.

"Honestly, three of you and you can't even babysit a woman and a child. Now," He turned to the man at his side and smiled, the sight of it seeming more like a dragon that had just cornered it prey, than a friendly gesture, "Matty, tell me all about your little plot. I heard it's thrilling stuff."

"Fuck you." The man ground out, his voice hoarse.

Riddle seemed delighted by this response, laughing good-naturedly, his gaze searching his other minion to check that they were, in fact, laughing too. They quickly took the hint, their humourless guffaws echoing around the room, making Draco cringe. Only Snape, his younger self, remained unmoved, no hint of emotion showing on his face.

"Ah Severus, always so serious."

"Yes, my lord."

"You have my trusted follower to thank for you being here, Matty, isn't that right, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord." The younger Snape answered.

"He found out all about your plans to run away, to get away from terrible, evil, me." Riddle laughed, and his minions once again joined in, falling silent when their Lord raised his hand. "He found out what your wife is, what your disgusting child is, and he brought you all back to me for judgement."

Tears were glittering in the man's eyes, dripping down into his scraggly beard that was a dark brown with flecks of grey. His whole body shook as he fought and fought the cruse, his fingers looking almost like claws as he tried to move his arm.

"I wouldn't bother, Matty, Severus is an incredibly accomplished wizard, you will do as I say, isn't that right, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Now, I have something I would like you to do." He leaned forward, whispering in the man's ear and Draco watched as a new wave of fear flooded the man's eyes, tears flowing down his cheeks furiously and wetting his beard.

"NOOO." The cry was hoarse as it fought its way out of his mouth.

"Now, now, I do not like people that defy me, I thought you would have learnt that by now." Lifting his own wand Riddle cast another Imperius curse, watching with fascination as the man's legs moved jerkily towards the end of the ballroom where his child struggled against Knotts father, and his wife was struggling to lift herself up on shaking arms, blood dripping from her nose in a disgusting ooze.

"Daddy." The baby was now struggling for her father, letting out another sob when Knotts father refused to relinquish his grip.

"Somebody give my good man a wand." His followers faltered at his words, but quickly, Draco watched his father step forward, placing his wand into Matty's hands and stepping back quickly.

"Matty." It was the woman, she had turned to him, her eyes widening with understanding. "Matty don't, please." Her next words were lost in a flash of green light, her body flinging back and then remaining still.

Draco stumbled back, his stomach turning, he didn't want to see anymore, didn't need to see, he got it, he understood.

"Stop it, I don't want to see anymore."

"You have to," Snape stated simply.

"No, no I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Let the child go, Knott," Riddle said calmly.

There was the sound of the child running, screaming and crying for her Daddy, the room so full of noise that Draco didn't think he could cope, then there was a flash of green and everything was silent and still.

"Relieve him of your wand Lucius and take him back to the dungeons." Quickly the memory cleared, and he was in Snape's office, on his knees retching.

"How could you do that?"

"Matheus Stradd, he followed The Dark Lord from the very beginning. His wife Isabelle, she was raised by Muggles, adopted by them. The child, the child was a muggle, her parents had died in a terrible accident and Isabelle had agreed to take her on. Matheus thought they could get away from everything he had helped start. He thought they could begin anew somewhere else. It was not to be."

"And who's fault was that?" Draco spat, looking up at his professor with disgust.

"Mine, I know it and I have to live with it every day."

"Why did you show me this…why…?" Draco realised with embarrassment that he was crying, great fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know this Matty, didn't know him or his wife, or the small child they had chosen to take on as their own, but he saw the pain the agony and he knew it. That would happen to him, would happen to his family if he decided to go against The Dark Lord. His father was not brave enough to deny him, could not stand against such evil and he, well he was apart of the family. He was a Malfoy and always would be and he could not get away from it.

"Miss Granger is not the only one at risk," Snape stated, his dark eyes looking down at Draco as he knelt on the floor, his hand wiping his nose as he sniffed loudly. "I can protect you and your family, Draco, but I can't do it if you carry on this way."

Draco nodded, staring vacantly at the jars that littered the shelves of Snape's office. At that moment he had never hated Harry Potter more. The golden boy, the be all and end all, the wizarding worlds only hope, the boy with all the choices.


	61. Beanie Boy

I am so sorry this has taken me so long to post, (feels like I always start my posts with that sentence :)) I have really struggled to write this and am still not sure I'm happy with it, but ah well got to post at some point. Thanks so much for all the reviews they mean a lot. Hey, Schalakid I don't actually have an update schedule but I guess its something that I can look into working out something like that, might actually help me update more often. Hope you like the chapter, I'm sorry that not much happens but promise there is more to come soon, will try not leave it so long between updates next time.

* * *

"Okay, what's going on?" Pansy asked seating herself across from Blaise, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. A constant staple of the dungeons was the unbearable cold, a draught seemed to scream through from an unknown place and freeze everything in its path. In the summer months it was a welcome relief, but in the winter, it seemed that no amount of layers were never enough. Most of the members of Slytherin tried to gather as close to the fire as possible.

Blaise glanced up at her, pausing in his writing and sending a quick glance around the common room; nearly everyone had already made their way to bed, a rather large debate had broken out about Umbridge and her pink, wily ways. Most agreed that she was an annoyance that was by all intents and purposes making life at Hogwarts drab, the extortionate amount of rules she expected everyone to live by was becoming ridiculous. Others though, a small minority, it had to be said, believed that she was doing the school some good, making life at Hogwarts fairer. To everyone's surprise, the leaders of this minority were, in fact, Crabbe and Goyle and while their arguments weren't exactly eloquent, it was noted that the pair weren't exactly in the habit of speaking much to anyone, except of course to each other.

The only remaining students were Theo, who was pacing in front of the fire and Matty Owes, who was bent over Theo's potions homework, completing it for him. Matty's talents, the Owe's guarantee was that he could write a piece of work that was at least passable, nothing special, but enough to keep most Slytherins out of the teacher's bad books, it would, however, be completed in the same handwriting and style as the person who had hired his services. Of course, he was expensive, being on the of the very few Slytherins that came from a relatively poor family he always charged through the nose, but it was worth it, especially if important work had been left till the last minute.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Blaise shrugged moving to continue with whatever work he had opened out in front of him, a pot of ink acting as a paperweight to keep the scroll from curling. Pansy slammed her hand down on the paper, snapping the quill and splattering ink all over his work and her hand. She however ignored this fact, glaring at him as he inspected the damage, her nostrils flaring slightly.

Weeks had fled by at an astonishing rate and it felt like she'd only had time to blink before their argument was incredibly in the past and they still somehow had not managed to forgive each other. Pansy wouldn't have minded if she could have remembered what it was she was supposed to have done; she'd gone to build bridges and he'd effectively slammed a door in her face, asking her rather sarcastically if she needed to hold Draco's hand while they sorted through their issues. While the argument had given her pause and somewhat confused her, she found herself incensed by Blaise's treatment of her. So, reacting Slytherin appropriate, stuck up her middle finger at his closed door and proceeded to ignore him and stick even closer to Draco and Daphne whenever the occasion called for it or even when it didn't for that matter.

Blaise obviously hadn't said anything about her obvious ignorance to what had made him angry, but the dark cloud of brooding that lingered over his head appeared to get more thunderous as the weeks passed. She'd become so distracted by his strange behaviour that her constant vigil on Draco had somehow slipped by the wayside. She made herself feel a little better with the knowledge that the strange 'Liking Granger' ship had sailed and, had been effectively sunk by the work of genius that was Theo's 'King Weasley' masterpiece. The flailing punch from Potty had all but sealed the deal. The night after the Quidditch match and the fight, Draco had turned his two bruised eyes to the fire and stared and stared, muttering sadly to Pans before slinking off to bed.

" _You think he'd be happy. He has everything."_ Everything? She'd sat there for a while mulling over the word and finding herself more and more confused. Everything? She hated the guy, but she wouldn't have gone that far. No parents, no real home, no real clue about anything in the wizarding world until it smacked him around the face, constantly in and out of the paper for good and or bad. While there was always speculation that the spectacled wonder loved the attention, sometimes she wondered. It wasn't that she wanted to stick up for the boy-wonder, quite the opposite, but something in the way Harry Potter held himself, did not scream attention seeker. Sure, he stuck his nose into tons of things that he need not, but she guessed that was just him trying to prove himself, trying and trying, just like Draco really.

She realised that the 'everything' Draco was referring to was Granger. The thought made her sad and not disgusted as she'd first assumed. Poor Draco. While she could not condone liking the mudblood, she wished she could somehow make him feel better, happier. Merlin knew that Daphne, bless her, though she tried, didn't make him happy, not even close. Theo on the other hand, her mere presence was like Lumos right to his face. She supposed she'd have to tell him not to be so blindingly obvious about it, but then again, it wasn't like Daphne was subtle either. Tell-tale glances, all the high-pitched giggling at some of the worst of Theo's jokes, hanging off Draco's arm but leaning always ever closer to Theo, till she may as well have mounted his lap for all the space there was between them. If Draco noticed he didn't seem to care, he'd stare off despondently into the distance, or at the Gryffindor table and only lock lips with Daphne when one particular Gryffindor appeared.

Pansy resisted the urge to rub her forehead, she didn't want to show any weakness in the face of an argument, still, the headache pounding behind her eyes was hard to ignore. She'd suffered considerable headaches over the tangled knotty mess that her friends were becoming and none of the potions or spells seemed to get anywhere near curing. All the secrets and the lies for what? Just to make sure He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name-But-Messed-Everything-Up-Anyway didn't know about Draco's inclination for one specific muggle-born. She considered telling Draco to be done with all the crap, to tell Granger so she could reject him, and everything could go back to normal; untangled, unmessy, simple. Strangely though there was a part of her that had a sneaky suspicion that Granger wouldn't turn him down and they would be up shit city unable to apparate.

After glancing at his work in disbelief Blaise sat back, meeting her gaze; his eyes almost looked black in the candlelight.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about Zabini, whatever reason you have for being a first-class dick, you're going to explain it to me now and it better be good."

Theo paused in his pacing, eyeing his two friends sheepishly. It had not gone beyond his notice that they were not exactly getting on and hadn't been for weeks, steadfastly ignoring one another to the point that being around them had become incredibly annoying. Theo had decided that they would put whatever nonsense they were going through behind them as they had always done, but it seemed that whatever proverbial bee that was buzzing around in their bonnets was in it for the long hall. He winced, he had a feeling that things were about to get incredibly uncomfortable in the common room and while he was always for the spectator sport of watching Slytherins tear into one another, he had a feeling that he would not be allowed to remain an innocent bystander when Blaise and Pansy started exchanging insults.

"Matty, my good man, I think we would be better served completing this elsewhere." He gestured to the papers on the table, offering Matty a wry smile.

"Huh?" Theo cringed slightly; Matty was a small and spotty individual with a large bottom lip that seemed to always weigh his mouth open, it gave the poor chap a look of stupidity that made it difficult for Theo not to make jokes. Unfortunately, he knew that if he did, chances were he would be before Snape desperately trying to explain why he had not managed to complete the homework.

"Continue this, upstairs." He sighed when the boy simply gave him a confused look.

"That's rich coming from you, Parkinson." Blaise ground out, standing up so quickly that the chair he'd been sitting on tipped and clattered to the floor. Matty glanced over, understanding dawning on his face.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Now if you don't mind." Matty nodded, quickly gathering up his supplies, glancing every now and again at the arguing pair, clearly curious.

"Excuse me, I came to _apologise_ to you and you slammed a door in my face." Theo ducked his head at the sound of Pansy shrill yell.

"I wasn't in the mood for your excuses." Pansy's face turned bright red, her body shaking with rage as Blaise's insinuation that her attempt at an apology had simply been excuses.

"Excuses? I didn't make excuses." Neither of them noticed Theo ducking out of the room, taking pains to shut the door as quietly as possible behind him.

"Oh please, _Draco needed my help_. What's that except for an excuse, a shit one at that too."

"What in Merlin's name had Draco got to do with any of this?"

"I don't know, you tell me, you're the one that constantly brings him up. Can't have a conversation with you without you dropping his name in every five seconds."

"And how would you know, you haven't spoken to me for weeks."

"I can still hear Parkinson, and literally the only shit that passes your lips is shit to do with him."

"That's bull…" The door to the boy's dorm swing open and Draco stepped out shouldering a dark coat that reaching his knees. He glanced quickly at his friends, pausing when he noticed how tensed they both seemed.

"Everything alright?" He asked slowly, looping a scarf around his neck.

"Fine, just peachy." Blaise spat, not taking his eyes off Pansy.

"Okay, well…don't mind me." He carried on towards the common room door, hoping that Pansy would not feel the need to follow him.

"Where are you going?" She asked, ignoring the dark look that had fallen over Blaise's face.

"Out." Draco shrugged, not turning to look at her as he opened the door, stepping out into the dark corridor.

"But it's late, you could get into trouble."

"Prefect."

"That won't…" the door slammed, "mean anything." Pansy's shoulder slumped, she knew that she should follow him, letting him go alone was tempting fate. For some reason, he and Granger always seemed to find each other. Pansy had once joked that something seemed to draw them together, the serious look that Draco had given her told her that maybe something did, something that she couldn't possibly understand. Still, she needed to sort things out with Blaise, it had gotten well beyond a joke and spending time with her friends was now becoming a not so enjoyable past time.

"Well, you better follow the ferret, I'm not sure he'll be able to find his way back without you." Blaise bit out sarcastically and Pansy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she looked at him.

"I'm talking to you, this is getting sorted out, here and now."

"So now I'm finally worthy of your time?" Pansy scoffed at Blaise's question, shaking her head.

"By Salazar, what are you talking about? You're the one that keeps ignoring me."

"Not difficult considering you don't want to be with anyone but Malfoy." Blaise was shouting at her which wasn't really very Blaise like at all.

"I don't…"

"Its always, Draco this, Draco that, every bloodie conversation we've had over the last year has started with his bloodie name."

"That's not true," Pansy said quietly, although she didn't have very much confidence in her argument, she had to admit she'd been somewhat distracted by Draco's predicament, but then again, he'd needed her help and what kind of friend would she be if she didn't offer it.

"You can't go anywhere, do anything unless its somehow to do with Malfoy."

"Look if this is about how I spoke to you a few weeks back, I've already said I was sorry, but Draco…"

"There you go again, fuckin Draco." Pansy flinched as he swore, it wasn't like she hadn't heard him swear before, it was just he never did it that much and definitely not aimed at her.

"This is ridiculous, he's my friend and I'm _trying_ to explain to you that he's going through a tough time at the moment and I'm helping him. What's so wrong about that?"

"What's wrong with it? He's all you can bang on about, all you care about. Honestly, if something isn't to do with Draco fucking Malfoy you don't seem to notice it."

"I notice plenty of things, thank you very much. In fact, you could probably say that I know everything about my friends because I actually care."

"Really? You think you know everything?" He was walking toward her and for some reason, Pansy had to fight the urge to step back, Blaise wouldn't hurt her, she knew that.

"Really." She confirmed with a nod, her lips pressed tightly together, he could challenge her, ask her questions that he was sure no one knew the answer to and she was confident that she would be able to answer them because she did know everything about her friends. Pansy's celebration of victory was cut short because Blaise was kissing her. His palms were against her cheeks, the tip of one finger brushing against the lobe of her ear. He tipped his head and opened his mouth and she followed because there was too much and nothing at all in her head. This was Blaise, her friend, and he was tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue and it was knee shakingly good, so much so that her legs almost gave way beneath her.

Then he was pulling away and she sucked in a breath, feeling slightly lightheaded. Her eyes blinked open and he was staring at her so seriously it made her heart hurt.

"Not everything Pans, nowhere near." He muttered, turning on his heel and stomping up to the boy's dorm room, leaving Pansy blinking dazedly in the middle of the room.

Draco let out a breath of relief when he realised that Pansy wasn't going to follow him, his actions would have been somewhat difficult to explain if she'd have come after him with all her questions. He couldn't explain why the Sensieve's Magic was floating in front of him, bright blue, glistening in the darkness and trailing off into the distance as if it wanted to lead him somewhere. He lifted his hand towards it, smiling slightly at the familiar tingle of it against his skin. It was a feeling that made him think of Granger, a feeling he'd actually come to miss.

For several weeks, during the time that he had attempted to stay as far away from Granger as possible and she had tried desperately to approach him, the Sensieve had been strangely absent. It hadn't tugged them out of the real world and into memories, the feeling of it hadn't flared up when she was near, hadn't made the air stifling when they had been close. Now it was there, tendrils of it curling around his fingers and gently tugging him down the corridor. Digging his hands into his pockets he dipped his head and followed where ever it lead, hesitating only a moment when the blue disappeared through the closed door of Hogwarts. He smiled slightly when he thought of Granger twisting the handle this way and that, a small frown furrowing her brow as she admonished him.

It was almost an age ago when he had found his ancestors wand, which hadn't been moved from its hiding place beneath his bed since the last time he had been pulled into the Sensieve. He'd thought about practising spells again, but something kept stopping him, as if he couldn't effectively do it without Granger's input, her know-it-all voice ringing through his head, telling him what to do.

He opened the door and breathed in the cool air, gentle flakes kissing his chees as they drifted down. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, the top of the lake a sheet of ice and in the sky, great grey clouds drifted across the black. He hunched his shoulders against the cold, listening to the crunch of snow beneath his feet. The Sensieve's magic was floating in the air, curling towards the rocks where they'd found his ancestors wand.

He stared at the rocks some time wondering exactly what it was the Sensieve wanted to show him, usually it was obvious, the magic would lead him there and then things would glow at least that was how it had always worked before. He could almost hear Hermione's voice in his head telling him to look and though he thought it was a bad idea he found himself clambering over the rocks, slipping twice on the ice that coated it. A quick glance told him that there was a grand total of nothing to find amongst the rocks. He was stupid to think that there would be, everything had already been found; the wand, the ring. He glanced down at his family's emblem on his finger, the stones encrusted in it glinting slightly. He couldn't count the times that he'd looked at the ring over the last few weeks and thought what it would be like not to be a Malfoy. He'd thought about it all the more when he' received a letter from his father, though veiled he could read the references to the dark lord in nearly every sentence. He knew what that meant, it meant his father was in the process of planning something terrible, something that would pull him even further away from Granger as if he needed any help with that. He pulled the ring off his finger slowly, twirling it gently. He considered throwing it across the lake, letting it skitter along the ice, the ice would melt, and it would sink into the darkness.

He sighed, placing it back on his finger. He was a Malfoy and he always would be, throwing his ancestors ring away wouldn't change that. He wondered whether Granger missed him even a little bit, missed their adventures. He doubted it but there was always the hope. He knew he missed her, his heart ached with how much he wanted to talk to her, wanted to go back in time, back to the corridor, back to the moment that he'd almost kissed her.

He froze suddenly, glancing up when he heard the door to Hogwarts creak open, a figure stepping out into the snow, breath fogging the air. He watched as the figure held out a hand, catching the falling flakes before carrying on around the lake. He hunkered low against the rocks, hoping that the black of his coat would blend in with the black of the rocks. He wondered who in Merlin's name would be out so late.

His heart hammered in his chest when the figure got closer and he realised that it was Granger. Hesitating only a moment he stood, watching as she stilled, her breath misting in the air as she crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her hands over the tops of her arms. He stepped down from the rocks, careful not to slip, he didn't want to laugh at him as well as hate him.

"Granger."


	62. A Little Bit Slytherin

Thanks so much for all the reviews and also for being so patient with me. I'm going to try and get the next chapters out as quick as possible. Hope you like this.

* * *

Hermione didn't know what to say, what to do, the fact that the first sighting of the Sensieve's magic in weeks had led her straight to Draco seemed too much like fate and it made her feel uncomfortable. She'd just gotten to the point of being almost okay with the new status quo; they could pretend nothing had ever slightly happened between them, no harm, no foul. Now she felt as if all her progress, all her pep talks from Ginny had been ripped away and all that remained was the faint tinge of the Sensieve's magic, which she always associated with him, always.

She opened and closed her mouth, uncertain of what she could possibly say to him. She guessed she could shout at him, ask him what on earth he thought he was playing at, but they'd done that all before, all their conversations feeling suspiciously like deje vu.

A light breeze blew past and she shivered violently. Common sense should have told her to grab a coat before leaving the warmth of the common room, but her excitement at seeing the familiar blue light had meant that she'd forgotten about everything but following wherever it led. Of course, now that the wonder had worn off she was left dithering in the bitter cold in nothing but her bunny pyjama bottoms and a thin t-shirt that her father had brought back from a dentist convention; Colgate boasting whiter than white on the front, a gleaming tooth emblazoned with it just to prove it.

"You're cold," He muttered, stepping towards her slowly as if she were a wild animal and he was desperately afraid of spooking her.

"How incredibly observant of you." She managed to make it sound justifiably biting, even through her chattering teeth. After all that had happened the last few weeks, she would not have guessed that those would be the first words out his mouth. Hermione was shocked even further when he slipped off his coat and settled it on her shoulders, warmth instantly seeping into her skin, his scent surrounding her. It was a heady experience that made it difficult to do anything but grab at the lapels, pulling them together.

Of course, she realised that if Ginny were there, the redhead would stomp her foot and tell her to shove the coat and his pathetic kindness right back in his face. But Ginny wasn't there and no matter how much she knew she should do it, she just couldn't bring herself to. It wasn't like she needed anything that he had to offer, but guiltily she wanted it and it was so, so warm.

"I don't understand you." She whispered, lifting her head and narrowing her eyes at him. She'd caught him examining her attire, a small smile playing on his face.

"Are those…bunnies?" He queried, ignoring her comment and leaning down to look more closely. Hermione tugged the coat tighter around her and stepped back a little, hoping it would obstruct his view if only a bit.

"Yes, and before you say anything, there is nothing wrong with having rabbits on my pyjamas."

"Oh, I didn't say there was anything wrong with it, it's just…it's you." Hermione had no idea what he meant but something in the way he said it, the small smile that accompanied it, the softness of his gaze as he looked at her made it difficult to swallow.

"What are you doing?" She asked, pressing her lips together sternly, the whole situation was all just a bit too weird, a bit too out of the blue. A small part of her mind whispered (quite rightly) that she didn't need this, there were too many other things going on, rearing their ugly heads and making yet another year at Hogwarts something of an issue. She didn't _need_ Draco to be yet another problem, but crazily she wanted him to be. She'd missed him, missed the moments, missed the way he constantly challenged her, infuriated her. She'd thought endlessly about what she had been sure was an almost kiss and had come to terms with the fact that she'd wanted him too. If her memory served her correct she'd leaned forward, pushing herself up to her toes towards him.

"Well, I'm talking to you." He answered slowly, shrugging slightly in an attempt to appear casual, but Hermione could tell that his hands in his pockets and the hunch of his shoulders had nothing at all to do with the cold, he was nervous. The knowledge that he seemed just as unsure as she did, made her back straighten a little.

"And why's that?" She wanted to point out that he'd been avoiding her, but the wounded glance he sent her way told her he was already aware and waiting for retribution, so she held her tongue, pushing back the screaming logic in her head waiting for him to explain himself.

"I…the Sensieve brought me here."

Hermione did her best not to snort in derision. If that was all he could come up with then she was going to bed, Ginny had been right, people like Draco Malfoy just couldn't be reasoned with, couldn't be trusted. She had known and yet she had still let him get far too close.

"It brought me here too, but it seems there's nothing to find." She glanced around quickly, shrugging his coat off her shoulders and wincing at the cold. With a sigh, she held it out to him. She did her best not to make it too obvious that she was itching to look around more, still there was a point to be made, she wasn't going to be phased by him or by the way he treated her, she was just going to hand back his coat and stomp her way back to the castle. Like Ginny had told her to, she would draw a line under everything and start anew.

"Keep it." He looked at the coat and then at her and she gulped past the want to hug him close, she was sure that she had never seen Malfoy look so sad.

"And how will I explain it to my friends?"

"Say you found it?" He grinned a little and Hermione fought back a smile.

"I don't think that will work somehow."

She waved it at him and Draco sighed resignedly gently taking it from her, sparks erupting over her hand as his fingers brushed hers. She looked up at him and her eyes widened at the intensity of his gaze looking at and into her. She knew he could feel the Sensieve's magic too, crackling and sparking across their skin and in the air around them. It had been so long since it had made its appearance that she'd forgotten just how intense it could be. She faintly realised that Draco was stepping towards her and she was stepping towards him, the old magic drawing them together, a centre of gravity that tugged them both towards it and each other. Hermione quickly pulled away not able to trust herself or the multitude of feelings that seemed to be clamouring within her. Why was she there with him after everything he'd done both to her and her friends? Why was she allowing herself to be swept along when she knew that it was just going to end in hurt and pain? She couldn't answer the questions, but she made herself feel a little bit better by convincing herself that it was the old magic, it was strong, and it was controlling them both meaning that neither of them really had a choice when it came to its power. Of course, that explanation didn't go anyway to explaining the other thing, the subtle and quiet thing that she felt for him, lingering in the background and whispering for her to give him a chance. It was similar to the undeniable force that worked between Edward and Mina, but she didn't want to think about what that meant about how she felt about the Slytherin.

"I've got to go." She mumbled quickly, turning away from him and shutting out all the thoughts that suggested she stay.

"Granger. Wait." She could have cried, or cursed, or turned and slapped him around the face. Five steps and he was calling her back and she wanted to ignore him, but she couldn't. They would still go back to their respective common rooms and regardless of what was said, he would go back to Daphne and ignore her, but still, she stayed, anger bubbling within her at the injustice of it all. She was no fool, she was a strong, brave Gryffindor, who'd help Harry overcome some terrible things, but when it came to Draco she somehow devolved into an idiot who learned nothing from previous mistakes.

All of this frustration burst out of her as she whirled around to face him.

"Why? Why should I wait? Why should I keep listening to all your crap?" Draco drew back frowning, glaring at the forbidden forest, his jaw clenching furiously.

"You know, there are a lot of things you don't understand." Hermione snorted in disbelief.

"Oh, I understand plenty. I understand that you blow hot and cold all the time, you suddenly decide that you want to talk and think that I'll just go along with it like I've been sitting twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to show me some kind of attention."

"I don't…"

"I understand that, regardless of my feelings, you are nothing but cruel to the people I care about."

"Granger, I…"

"I understand that you are so infuriating so…so…"

"If you're going to shout at me will you please put this back on?" Anger was burning in his eyes as he held the coat out to her.

"Confusing." She breathed, her anger slightly muted for the moment. When she made no move to take the coat, he stepped forward quickly, drawing it once again over her shoulders, stepping back when it was once again securely wrapped around her.

"Why do you do this?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I've been brought up with the knowledge it's not chivalrous to let a woman freeze to death."

"You know what I'm talking about. You're cruel, mean, you write terrible songs about my friends…"

"Theo wrote that." Draco quickly defended.

"You sang it." She accused, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes, I sang it." He stepped back, looking down at his shoes as they scuffed the snow till tiny blades of grass began to peek through the white.

"Why?" Draco gave her an incredulous look before sighing in exasperation.

"Because I did. Because it was funny, and I wanted to win."

"Funny? You thought singing a cruel song about my friend was funny."

"Well, yeah."

"He was petrified, and you made it all ten times worse for him. And for your information, he does not live in a bin."

"Okay, okay, but come on, Granger he was playing Quidditch not facing a sodding dementor."

"That's beside the point."

"Of course, it, because everything slightly wrong with your friends is always 'beside' the point."

"There is nothing slightly wrong with my friends." She knew it wasn't true, but she couldn't stand Malfoy tearing them apart.

"Yes, yes, nothing at all, because Potty and the Weasley clone didn't try to kick seven charms out of me."

"Harry told me what you said, can you really blame him?"

"Merlin forbid You-Know-Who decides to use name calling as his weapon of choice, the wizarding world will be screwed." Hermione crossed her arms tapping her foot angrily in the snow.

"Well, at least I understand a few more things, you're always going to be this way." Draco glared at her stomping forward with such ferocity that she stumbled back slightly.

"Is that what you want? Want me to change and become like Potty, I can go on all your measly adventures and still win no house points for Slytherin."

"No, I just…I just want you to be yourself and don't…don't tell me all that crap is who you are because it's not, I know it's not"

"And what is me, Granger, then huh? Because by Salazar, I'm not a jumped up little Gryffindor."

"Who cares about any of that? You, you're Malfoy, you're funny and somehow you can be caring and weirdly make me feel better. I don't…I don't even understand it, but you listen and you're…you're a good person you just seem to forget that or desperately try not to be."

Hermione looked up at Draco and gulped, his grey stare boring into her, searching her eyes for something.

"You really believe that?" He was close, his warm breath ghosting her face.

"Yes." He smiled almost sadly down at her, the pad of his thumb tracing the same path it had weeks ago, the feeling of it making Hermione shiver, her eyes dropping closed for a second.

"I'm not a good person, Granger." He was watching his thumb as it traced her bottom lip, Hermione's mouth opened slightly when she found it was getting harder to breathe.

"You could be." He was leaning forward, and she was shocked, how did they get here again, how did they go from arguing to being pulled together. She wondered if he felt this way with Greengrass and the thought of his girlfriend pulled her back to reality, making her step back and away from him. His hand remained suspended in the air for some time before it dropped dejectedly by his side. Part of her wished she hadn't stepped back, she could have pressed herself right against him, clung to him and made her argument loud and clear as she tasted him, breathed him in. Hermione flushed, turning away quickly so he wouldn't see the shameful things she was thinking about. If Ginny happened across her again she wasn't sure that her friend would be so understanding.

Draco raked his hands through his hair, walking to the edge of the lake and kicking some stones, watching them bounce across the ice, the way he'd imagined his ring would of if he'd thrown it.

"Argh, this is fucked."

"What is?" Hermione hesitantly took one step toward him before stopping. As she looked at him she wondered what it was that he liked about Daphne, what was it about her that made her so much better, so much more than what she was. Hermione shook her head quickly, dislodging the thoughts as soon as they appeared, she would not allow herself to fall into a state of self-pity and woe, Draco Malfoy was with Daphne Greengrass and that's all there was to it, she would just have to get her head around it somehow. Still, the surrealness of her thought process was not lost on her, who'd of thought that she would be jealous of Malfoy's girlfriend?

"Everything."

"It can't be all that bad." Though some sort of instinct inside of her knew that it was, things were very bad, not just between them, it was all around them in the wizarding world.

"It is. Look, Granger…I want to…I've wanted to spend time with you, talk to you. I want…" He looked at her and gulped, "Either way it doesn't matter because I can't, I've been trying to avoid you because…well for reasons."

Hermione was shocked to find that she was chuckling lightly, stepping next to him to look out at the lake. The castle loomed above their heads but to Hermione it felt as though it was a million worlds away and it was just them, meeting together and leaving their lives behind at the proverbial tree line.

"Well, that's decidedly unhelpful." Draco chuckled too wiping his forehead.

"Tell me about it."

"Why can't you see me, talk to me?" Draco gave her pained side glance before digging his hands into his pockets.

"I can't tell you, I want to, Granger believe me." Hermione nodded, she did believe him, somehow. "But not seeing you, not being able to talk to you…" Draco rubbed his face several times, "well, it just sucks."

Though they were in no way poetic, the words warmed her heart, keeping out the chill far better than the coat had been. It made her feel happy to know that no contact had hurt him just as much as it had hurt her.

"You're just…" He was struggling to find the words, but when he turned to her, snagging one of her curls gently in his fingers, it seemed as though he'd struck gold, a small smile playing on his face. "You're just, Granger and it's pretty impossible to stay away."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask why it was impossible, what he felt, why he was doing all of this when he had a girlfriend, but she knew he wouldn't answer her, so she simply closed her mouth again. Heart racing in her chest, she stepped forward, looping her arms around his neck and pulling herself onto her tiptoes. She ignored his wide eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder, nose brushing his neck lightly. Draco wrapped his arms around her so quickly she involuntarily gasped, holding her so fiercely as if he'd been starved of it for so long. Hermione clung onto him too, blushing as she buried her head deeper into his neck, breathing him in.

"I don't understand it but I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in for both of them. Then she added quietly "It sucks without you too."

She couldn't believe herself, not only was she directly going against everything that Ginny had told her, but she was going against Gryffindor principles. She was good and right and kind and brave and in no way was it right to be holding another girl's boyfriend as though she was afraid he would disappear. She knew she shouldn't but there was a calmness and a happiness that filled her when Draco gripped her tighter, his hands moving up and down her back in the most hypnotic way. It was wrong, but everything about it felt wonderful, and she wondered if that was what it was like to be a little bit devious. A little bit Slytherin.


	63. Fate of a Killer

Thanks so much for everyone's reviews, can't believe how amazing the feedback is, thanks so much. I am going to be sticking pretty closely to the canon, I'm sorry if that spoils this story for anyone who saw it going in a different direction. Don't worry though, things will change especially Draco and Hermione's relationship. I really hope this doesn't upset too many people and you carry on reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, have noticed a few in my previous chapters, will be going back and sorting them out. Once again thanks so much to everyone for giving my story a chance :)

* * *

Draco breathed Hermione in, smiling dreamily at the scent of strawberries. She felt wonderful against him, wonderful in a way that Daphne never did, there was something right and breathless about it that made him feel a bit like a teenage girl. He rubbed her back trying to warm her as she shook in his arms.

"Merlin, Granger, you're freezing," he whispered, and she nodded, burying her head into his neck, her warm breath ghosting his skin, making him gulp.

"We should probably head…" He didn't hear the rest of her words as the mist gathered around them and Hermione was no longer in his arms.

Edward hadn't really known what he'd been expecting, but the small grey stones that sat in his hand seemed somewhat normal. He moved them towards the fire watching with fascination as the surface of them refused to reflect the orange light.

"These are them?" He asked. He knew they were, but Bear's suggestion that they could answer all of their questions, in light of their normal appearance, seemed somewhat farfetched. Bear nodded, growling affirmingly. The large man sat opposite Edward over the other side of the fire, his axe balanced on his lap as he cleaned it almost lovingly.

"You know that's a weapon, not a woman?" Rhylan questioned as Bear took considerable time dragging a leather cloth over the craved surface of the blade, seeming mesmerized by something within the metal.

"Hah,' Bear guffawed, smiling amusedly to himself as he placed the leather cloth on the log next to him, "never touch no woman this way." Rhylan frowned at Bear's comment but shrugged, seeming not to want to continue with his line of questioning. Edward was somewhat glad, a lot of Bear and Rhylan's conversations ended with some sort of argument and it was the last thing he needed at that moment.

What he needed, what he wanted and craved was Mina. They could have been ages away from the village, away from Arden and Tharin. They could have been a distant memory, soon forgotten and replaced with other more pressing matters. He'd asked her every time, hinted that there was a life for them beyond all the pain, but she had always said no. Her loyalty and love for magic users was admirable and it was one of the qualities she possessed that actually left him breathless, but there was also breathless frustration. There was no talking to her, no convincing her. She would stay whether he begged or pleaded that she leave with him, she would stay whether it meant her death, she would stay even if he decided to leave her behind. He wouldn't of course, couldn't, his heart was tied to hers and wherever she wanted to be, he would always be there too, regardless of what that meant for him.

"What are they?" Taigen dumped the pile of sticks he'd been ordered to gather by Bear near the fire, settling himself onto a log and leaning down to admire the stones in Edwards' hands.

"Rune's lad, a means of lookin' into the past, the now, and seeing what will come of ya sorry ass." Taigen shifted uncomfortably, something in the way Bear said the last phrase suggested that what would become of Taigen's sorry ass wasn't going to be nice.

Edward shook his head smiling slightly to himself. Though Bear seemed to take great delight in scaring the young man, he had insisted that Taigen learn to fight properly, it was of course sometime after he'd guffawed rather loudly at Taigen's initial display of his fighting skills. Obviously, there was kindness in the brute, a kindness that was masked heavily with snarls and threats.

"I've never seen markings like this." He held up the stone and Bear chuckled.

"They'm ancient, wouldn't expect you to. Doe think no one but me Ma knew what them meant."

"So how are we going to read them?" Rhylan scoffed, grease dripping down his chin.

"You ain't gonna read shite, prob end up with a curse on all our 'eds." He shook his head before meeting Edwards gaze reassuringly, "I know enough, we can find out wha' we need."

Bear gestured for Edward to hand him the stones and he did, a weight settling in his stomach that he shamefully recognised as fear. He knew how powerful magic could be, had seen and fought it first hand, and this, it felt like magic. While his heart knew where his allegiances lay he couldn't shake how uncomfortable it felt to be delving into the depths of something that he had been taught to fear all his life. He supposed he should be used to it, two magic users had healed him, he'd felt the effects, was alive because of it. Bu this was new, he had never delved into magic himself and he still wasn't sure that he should, it felt far too much like playing with fire.

Bear managed to fold his legs beneath him, again showing an unusual amount of grace for a man of his stature. He drew a large rune in the dirt, muttering unintelligible words under his breath and Edward was sure that he could feel the air shift around him as if it had turned to look in at their small campfire in the woods, holding its breath for something, anything. He glanced up at the shadowed trees against the night sky and gulped when realised that the wind was no longer gently moving them too and fro, they were still in the night even though he could feel the breath of wind on his face.

Bear placed the stones in a circle around the rune, giving each stone a name that Edward had never heard before, the language strange and guttural, something from another time that had not been uttered in years. There was a feeling of age all around him, ancient and unchanging, and when each stone gently touched the earth Edward felt as though they were slotting back into place, the soil welcoming them back to where they had always belonged. All the noises of the world seemed all at once hushed and far too loud as if the bustle of life had quieted so he could hear the music of everything else loud and clear. It was beautiful and overwhelming, and he felt as though he needed to run from their tiny encampment and be back in the word that he knew. He glanced at Rhylan and Taigen, wondering if they were experiencing anything close to what he was feeling. Their wide eyes told him that they had to at least feel it too and that calmed him somewhat.

As soon as the last stone completed the circle everything seemed to return to normal, or at least that's what it felt like, the oppressive air seeming to relax. Edward noticed though that while the trees were once again blowing in the breeze he could no longer feel it on his face.

"We are…" Bear scratched his chin as if he were struggling with how to word it, "we am in the magic, doe leave till its complete." He met each of their gazes levelly, waiting till they nodded their understanding.

"Righ'." Bear shifted till he'd made himself comfortable, rubbing his hands together, "wha' is it we wanna ask, hold the questions in ya mind and focus on the runes."

"Won't that confuse the magic, all of us asking different things?" Bear simply laughed at Rhylan's question shaking his head.

"Dunno wha' kinda primitive shit you've been messing with, but this is real." With that, he nodded at each of them before turning his attention to the runes. Edward focused his mind on Tharin, of Mina, of the magic users asking with all he had for guidance, for knowledge of what was to come. He thought of the most distant of futures and begged for an answer to it, for knowledge that there would not be an end to what he and Mina had.

The vision seemed to fill the space, taking it over till it was just Edward and the stars before him, and he was travelling through them at such a pace he felt himself leaning back, even as he felt the log beneath him, even as his shoes dug into the earth. The stars took him further and further into the darkness till he was looking at an old man kneeling at a large bowl, tears were dripping from his eyes and each time they hit the floor the whole image rippled with his pain. Suddenly he was moving again, lifting and falling into the depth of the large bowl where blue light clung to him and he could feel every emotion. Within its depths he saw Mina waiting beneath a tree, her hair short around her head, blossoms woven to a crown upon her head and she was smiling so bitter-sweetly that it made his heartache. He saw war, cries and anguish, men wielding weapons that glowed the darkness and witches and wizards falling beneath them. He saw fire and green light mixing into a sickening roar that burnt his skin and filled his senses with ash and smoke. He saw stone giants crumbling and releasing small golden globes of light into the night sky and two children dressed strangely falling together. He almost fell off his log as the young girl's face filled his mind, her brown eyes looking into him, pearlescent light glimmering around her. He had the certainty that he should know her, or that he would know her and then everything faded. The campfire was once again crackling, the wind was once again blowing the trees and ruffling his hair and all the others around the fire were staring wide-eyed into the orange light of the fire as if they had seen the whole world laid out before them and they were unsure what to do with it.

Draco very nearly had a heart attack when he saw both himself and Granger appearing in Edwards memory, they were falling, falling together, stone giants falling behind them. He couldn't even see where they were or what exactly it was they were supposed to be doing, but they were falling, and he was holding her close, pointing his wand towards the sky. The Hermione's face had appeared, her brown eyes looking at him in the way that always made his legs weak. He couldn't understand any of it, why were they there, why were the runes drawing them into the past. He thought maybe it was a trick of the Sensieve, but he could feel Edwards's confusion as real as he had felt anything.

"Wha' you see?" Bear asked, rubbing his hands together and meeting Edward's gaze. There was something different about the large man as if he had been given knowledge of something dark and deep, something that he wasn't supposed to see.

"Death, war, glowing weapons. There was a bowl and a man and…and some children, but they looked…they looked strange." Bear nodded.

"Them runes show many things, some certain, some uncertain. Some far away, some close."

"I saw, I saw a storm, lightning shattering the earth, rain to flood the world, and men, Tharin's men. I was fighting them, with two axes', they had lightning in them. That can't be real can it?" Taigen muttered turning his wide eyes to Bear.

"You am on bout magic, anything's possible. Wha' bout you?" He turned to Rhylan who's lips were pressed into a thin line.

"There was a great house on fire, I saw the glowing weapons like Edward. I saw a young wolf, ice and snow deeper than any I've seen. I…" He looked up at Bear and paused, his lips tugging down at the edges before he shook his head. "It's like you said, I saw lots of things, but not everything is certain."

"Ar, that's true, but some things am." At that he glanced back at Taigen, "some things am."

Edward felt that there were many things that they had all seen that they were unwilling to share, voicing them bringing about a reality that none of them wanted to face.

"Can we change anything." Bear shrugged at Rhylan's question.

"Some say tha' nothin' is set, wha's to come is ever-changin' cos of all we do or doe. Other's well, they think different, sayin' everythin' is like stone, never changin an always been."

"So, what do we do?" Taigen asked, exasperated.

"Well, we know that Tharin is making weapons to defeat all magic users, and we have some idea of his plans," Edwards muttered, thinking of the girl within his vision and wondering who she was. He didn't know her, had never met her, never met anyone like her, but she looked so familiar that he felt as though he should.

"And I have always been of the mind that inaction is a worse crime than action." Bear grinned at him, palming his axe happily.

"Let's fuck some shit up."

Even Rhylan in spite of what he had seen was grinning at Edward, nodding his head in agreement.

"You won't find me agreeing with him often, but what he said. Let's put an end to Tharin Morax, one way or another."

Taigen was glancing at each of them with wonder in his eyes as if he was once again seeing his visions laid out before him.

"An wha' of you." Bear reached out, gently lifting Taigen's chin and meeting his gaze, "you with us?" Taigen's chest seemed to swell with pride, his eyes sparkling in the dark as he struggled to keep his bottom lip from wobbling. He nodded once, and Bear laughed.

"Ar thought you might. Fire's gettin' low, why doe you go an get some more wood?" Taigen jumped to his feet without complaint, disappearing into the darkness of the wood. Once Bear was certain that Taigen had made his way far enough into the trees he turned back to Edward, his voice low.

"You know wha' we have to do."

Edward did, he knew all too well what needed to be done. It was the only clear way forward if they didn't take it then thousands of people would die, very likely a whole race of people would be wiped out. But the path was littered with bodies and covered in yet more blood of innocent people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Casualties of a cause they had absolutely nothing to do with.

"Yes."

"I'll do it," Rhylan stated quickly, throwing a small branch into the dying flames.

"No. I will do it." Edward corrected, lifting his hand when Rhylan went to argue. "I would not ask you to do anything which I would not. This blood will be on my hands."

"We all 'av blood on our 'ands, hell I'm fuckin covered in the shit. No need for you to be a fuckin' saint about it."

"If anything happens this will be my fault, they will come for me. That is all." Rhylan lowered his head, quickly taking Edward's statement as an order and after only a moment of frowning Bear grumbled his agreement.

"If I do not succeed one of you will have to take my place."

"We will."

"Not a fuckin problem, Kiri been wantin' to bite into some shits."

Edward tried to smile but he couldn't, he would be killing again, murdering innocents for the 'right thing'. He wondered if this was what was always supposed to happen, that the runes had shown certainty and no matter what he did the outcome would always be the same. The thought scared him because then all the death would be for nothing, and he would simply be a murderer. He felt as though he wanted to look into the runes again and ask them to answer him properly, to show him whether this would always be his fate, the fate of a killer.

The campfire melted away and then Edward was stood outside a small hut. Draco could make out an anvil in the darkness, embers of a furnace glowing mutely in the dark. He gently turned the handle, walking into the house, the wood floor hardly creaking beneath his light footsteps. The blacksmith and his wife lived in a simple one-roomed hut, the fire burning up one corner, sacks piled up near a small table that housed remnants of the dinner that the old man had probably enjoyed.

Being the blacksmith of a small village meant that Surrol earned a lot of money for him and his wife, but the money disappeared on alcohol and various other things that he enjoyed doing, like meeting young women who sold their bodies and showing them that Surrol still had it in them to show them a good time. He had heard the old man slurring these words more times than he could count, a woman on either arm. Surrol was scum, his fist directed at his wife more often than not because she did not fight back.

Killing Surrol was easy, easing the blade into his neck as he covered his mouth felt almost like justice, a world full of hurt that he'd inflicted on others coming around to meet him in the form of Edwards blade. Bear had told him to stop being saintly, but he'd felt almost like he could be saintly standing over the man and watching as he stared wide-eyed and scared into the darkness Edward knew was in his gaze. His blood soaked into the hay beneath him, the rush of it warm and thick. It always surprised him how much blood people held within them, it poured and poured and poured. He could already hear it dripping onto the stone floor in fat heavy drops that sounded so loud in the silence.

When the man finally stilled Edward checked the wife, sighing happily when he noticed that she hadn't stirred, she looked almost serene and happy as if she knew somehow that many of her troubles were over. Taking a deep breath, Edward stepped away from the bed and made his way round to the mother's side where the blacksmith's son lay. It was quite often said that the boy did everything alone, his father spending so much of his time drunk. He couldn't remember the child's name, he just knew that he could not live, not with his father's talents. Tharin would find someone else to make the weapons it was a certainty but that would take time and time was what they needed.

He realised with shock that he was crying, tears racing down his cheeks. He knelt down next to the boy and wished that there was another way, but he had to do the right thing, he had to save the magic users, he had to stop the war from happening and killing them. He hated being right, but he had always known that he was. Sometimes doing what was right meant doing what was wrong.

Draco fell to his knees when the memory faded, his stomach once again emptying at the sight of Edward killing yet more people, roiling with the sickness Edward had felt at what he had to do. His arms shook as they held his weight and he shook his head, there had to be another way, there had to be a better way. All of his thoughts ground to a halt however when Hermione was next to him, her hand on his back and on his cheek, asking him if he was okay. He rested his head on her shoulder and breathed her in, letting her make everything better like she always seemed to.

"You know, seeing other people's memories suck." He laughed as she giggled, rubbing his back comfortingly. He looked up and froze as he took in the sight of her face close to his, brown eyes full of warmth and care, bushy hair framing her face, the night sky glinting behind her head in the magical ceiling of the Sensieve's room. He'd seen her look like that before, he'd seen her look like that through Edwards' eyes.

"He saw you, he saw us." He mumbled, and Hermione's brow furrowed.

"What? Who, who saw us?"

"Edward, he saw us, he looked into the future and he saw us."


	64. Thrown Out

Draco's arms slipped from around her and she was once again in Mina's body, hidden in one of the small secret passages that ran throughout Masarvas Manor. It seemed to Hermione that Arden and Sornious were preparing to go somewhere, bundling scrolls and instruments into a leather bag that seemed to small to contain it all. Mina shifted closer, wincing as the sound of her shoe scuffing against the stone filled her hiding place. While she was sure that they would not catch her, she did not want to tempt fate, it had become apparent that her presence in the Manor was somewhat abhorrent to Sornious.

As if to punctuate her thoughts, Sornious turned to Arden, his small eyes squinting up at the young wizard, his mouth pressed into a thin line of annoyance.

"I think it is time your lady left here." Mina's skin prickled with the feeling of being watched, as Arden surveyed the wall she hid behind in annoyance, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he slowly met his teachers gaze.

"I do not know what you mean." He muttered quietly, before busying himself with packing up yet more scrolls, a slight shake in his hand.

"You know of what I speak, she will get curious if she has not already and we need no distractions, no potential disturbances."

"She is loyal to me, heart and soul, she had stayed of her own free will. If that does not show that she believes in me then I do not know what will."

'If you believe that then you're a fool." Sornious bit out, turning his black wand through his fingers delicately, seeming almost bored as Arden froze and turned red with rage.

"She and I…I know her heart and her heart is with me." Mina felt mildly sickened by the statement. She realised that he had always believed that, and he had always been wrong. She shook her head, thinking of Sonyea. How could Arden have missed such open adoration from her friends and imagined it within her?

"You know nothing, and you can trust no word, no actions but mine."

"I trust Mina." Arden ground out and Mina was struck by a sudden wave of guilt, he still believed in her and she was betraying him over and over again. She managed to quell such idiotic feelings by remembering that by remembering all those he had betrayed in his quest or greatness.

"Do you? I have seen the way you look at her; desperate, wanting, suspicious. You no more know her heart than you know the depths of magic. Young, and naïve," Sornious scoffed as he appraised Arden with distaste and the young wizard shrunk back. Mina could not believe how different the wizard became, one-minute building Arden up and urging him to believe in his own wonder and majesty and the next squashing him beneath disappointment and disgust.

"It is my magic that is making everything possible, I don't need you." Arden spat it petulantly at the older wizard, but his head was lowered and submissive. Sornious' eyebrows rose into his wispy hairline, the threat seeming to amuse the dark wizard.

"Ah yes, your magic, and who is that had given your magic direction, that can be taken away just as easily as it was given."

Arden drew into himself even further, dark eyes boring into the floor as if willing it to swallow him up.

"She cannot leave, I will not allow it." He managed to glance briefly at Sornious before shifting his gaze back to his feet. Sornious shook his head but placed his wand back in his robes.

"Prepare the rest of our things," Sornious commanded at least a little tiredly and Arden nodded once, his expression grim.

Arden eventually turned to the stone wall behind him, muttering an incantation under his breath. Mina sucked in a breath when the door appeared, flashes of memories from a happier childhood overcoming her. It was the Masarvas family vault. There had been a prevailing legend that suggested the Masarvas family had supreme amounts of gold that they'd hidden away. Mina knew this wasn't true if they had at one point had a massive fortune it had disappeared rather fast and all that remained in the family vault was Arden father's strange collection of ancient artefacts and scrolls.

Mina had loved it when Arden's father opened up the vault and let her pore through the archives he'd amassed of magic that went right back to the very beginning of everything. Mina's favourite had always been the scrolls about the magical beasts that used to roam freely, living along-side witches and wizards and humans. It had been many hundreds of years since the magical beasts had disappeared into hiding, not trusting what the humans had become, not trusting what the witches and wizards had become, but when Arden's father spoke of them it was as if they had only disappeared the day before, everything about them still alive and obvious within their world.

Mina had met her fair share of magical beasts that still found it within themselves to trust magic users enough to interact with them. But some beasts, some beasts had been lost forever. Their location and magic too secret to ever be found again. Mina had always felt saddened by this fact, her fingers tracing the outlines of the drawings willing them back into the world. She would often traverse the grounds of Masarvas Manor calling out their names and hoping they would make themselves known to her. They never had, but she had never stopped hoping. Now she watched as Arden pulled out many of the scrolls that she recognised from her childhood and stuffed them unceremoniously into the small bag, his shoulders tense with anger.

"Now we…" Hermione blinked in confusion as a wave of nausea came over her the memory fading out of focus, mist curling around her. Hermione clutched at her stomach as it clenched painfully, voices called out in the mist, muttered conversations and an overwhelming amount of feelings that Hermione found it difficult to process.

The mist grew denser around her, swirling at an alarming speed, before settling into another memory rather violently. It took Hermione a moment to realise she was back in Mina's body and staring at the door to the dungeons. Mina's lifted her wand carefully, adjusting her grip as she decided on the best spell to use. Sornious and Arden had made their way down to the dungeons before they had left, placing wards around the door, powerful wards that Mina had never heard of before. Defeating wards had never been a strong point for her but she had to try, with Sornious and Arden gone it was the perfect opportunity to get all Lady Greengrass and the other prisoners to freedom.

Hermione still felt a little dizzy, the memories had never changed so abruptly and so violently before and the experience was disorientating.

"Miss, wait." Mina turned quickly, her eyes widening and grip on her wand tightening, heart racing in her chest. A small creature stepped into the light and Mina let out a breath when the familiar old eyes of Murry the house-elf looked up at her with worry.

"Oh, Murry." Her voice wobbled as she said this, letting her wand fall to her side.

"The wards will kill you, miss." Mina nodded her understanding, crossing her arms in front of her against the sudden chill of failure that had settled over her.

"I have to get them out, Murry, I have to get them to safety." Murry smiled at her sadly. The Masarvas house-elf, unlike many house-elves of the time, had always been treated with kindness by the family and as such the house-elf had quite happily taken on more responsibilities, such as looking after both Mina and Arden when they had been children. The small house-elf had been a constant staple in Mina's childhood, ever caring, ever annoyed and frustrated when both she and Arden gave her no end of issues. Mina felt slightly sickened at how easily she had forgotten the small creature.

"Where have you been?" Mina knelt before Murry, and the house-elf shuffled forward to meet her, her wrinkled hand reaching out to hold Mina's.

"There is darkness, miss, darkness in the house. I hid away, no room for Murry among such things, no room for Murry." The small creature shook her head violently, her large wrinkly ears flapping.

"I'm sorry, I should have, I should have found you."

"Miss need not worry about Murry, Murry has looked after herself and now she must look Miss. The wards are dark miss, will do dark things." Murry was gripping at Mina's arms, her old eyes earnest as she held Mina in place.

"I have to save them, I am their only hope."

"I know, but your death will not save them, Miss."

Mina looked up and Hermione noticed that Murry's face was fading out of focus, a wave of nausea once again overcoming Mina. She fell slightly, her hand reaching out to steady herself against the wall.

"Miss?" Murry's voice was distant and far away and then suddenly Hermione was no longer in the memory, her own hand against the wall of the Sensieve's room, the small paintings moving underneath her palm unperturbed. She shook her head in confusion. That had never happened before, while the memories had sometimes abruptly ended they had always felt somehow complete, having imparted all of the knowledge they wished to. This memory felt unfinished as if there were still things she needed to know and for whatever reason, the Sensieve was stopping her from seeing it.

Draco was a little way from her, kneeling down on the floor, Hermione noticed that his eyes were completely blue, as if the Sensieve's magic had moved into his eyes and taken over. Tears were falling down his cheeks and Hermione's breath caught, he looked so broken and she wanted to rush to him and make everything better. Instead, though, she waited for the memory to finish, rushing forward when the blue left his eyes, the mist retreated back into the bowl and Draco threw up onto the floor.

She rubbed his back gently, hand cupping his cheek, making him look up at her.

"Are you okay?" Her heart stuttered when he leaned into her, resting his head on her shoulder and taking deep shuddering breaths. She could hear Ginny's voice in her head telling her to not get swept up in Draco's crap, to keep some distance between them, but she closed her eyes against her friends' warnings. Whenever they experienced the memories it felt as if the rest of the world no longer existed and she wanted to keep it that way for just a bit longer.

"You know, seeing other people's memories sucks." Hermione despaired at the giggle his words elicited from her. she couldn't help it, his laugh was so nice, such a welcome change to his sneers and it proved to be incredibly infectious. She rubbed his back fighting off a blush as he pulled his head back to gaze at her.

"He saw you, he saw us." Hermione quickly looked around the room confused, wondering if someone was spying on them, but she couldn't see anything, it was just them.

"What? Who saw us?"

"Edward, he saw us. He looked into the future and he saw us." Hermione blinked rapidly trying to process the information.

"How?" Draco shifted, sitting on the floor and wiping his mouth with a shaky hand.

"Bearkiller, he had these runes and they all…they all had visions of the future. Edward saw us." Hermione's arms dropped into her lap in shock; she had read a little about runes but once again it seemed that she knew a pitiful amount. The memories never ceased to show her how little she understood about the wizarding world.

"What did he see?"

Draco shifted on the floor, leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath explaining before explaining all that he had seen. Hermione felt dizzy again, the thought of looking back into the past had been difficult enough to get her head around, but the past looking at into the future to see her was…she shook her head in disbelief.

"Stone giants?" Hermione paused, "what do you think that means?" Draco shrugged.

"Who know's, but we were falling from somewhere."

"But where?" Hermione muttered in frustration. Draco didn't answer but instead looked over at her smiling, his heart warming as she worried over her bottom lip. It never ceased to amaze him how much it annoyed her not knowing things. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she reached out to grasp his arm.

"Do you think that maybe it has something to do with what I saw in Mina's past?"

"Umm…"

"Perhaps there is something that we are meant to find."

"Granger," Hermione paused when he grasped the top of her arms looking into her eyes, "calm down, one thing at a time. More to the point what did you see?" Hermione was once again reminded of her strange experience in the Sensieve and sat back frowning.

"What?"

"It felt like…like the Sensieve kicked me out of the memory. Mina, she became dizzy and then…well then I was here."

"Huh." Draco stared up at the night sky glimmering in the ceiling shaking his head slowly from side to side. "It doesn't make much sense."

"It felt like something stopped the magic…like something blocked it." Hermione said matter of factly, leaning against the wall next to him, her arm brushing his, hand falling gently against his leg. His fingers twitched on his knee with a sudden want to lace his fingers with hers. He scratched the back of his head trying to distract himself.

"The only thing powerful enough to do that would be old magic." Hermione nodded slowly.

"Hmm…Maybe we should…"

"Check the library?" Draco interrupted grinning when Hermione cut her eyes at him.

"Well if you have a better option."

"Oh no judgement, Granger, you're just getting a tad predictable is all." Hermione opened her mouth to argue but something in the way he was smiling at her suggested that he did not find her predictable at all.

"So, we meet…" Hermione paused shaking her head, muttering a few curses under her breath.

"Something the matter?" Draco reached out, gently tracing the back of her fingers, trying to fight the hope that bloomed in his chest when she didn't move away.

"I just, I just need to meet a little later tomorrow, that's all." Draco grinned at her.

"I understand, little miss know-it-all has a busy schedule." Hermione rolled her eyes, climbing to her feet and holding out her hands for him to grasp. After only a brief hesitation Draco slotted his hands into hers and stood in front of her, his eyes not leaving hers.

Quickly Hermione tugged her hands back, blushing at her shoes before clearing her throat.

"So, we meet tomorrow then?"

"Whatever you say, Granger." She nodded in affirmation, striding across the room and opening the door.

When it came for them to part ways he turned to Granger, scratching the back of his neck as he worked up the nerve to ask her.

"Do you, do you still have the scroll I gave you?" Hermione looked up at him and nodded.

"I'll talk to you later then?"

"Talk to you later," she muttered as she watched him leave, a feeling of despair settling over her when she realised that in spite of everything she still cared for him a worrying amount.


	65. Breaking a Promise

"That's it!" Hermione shut the book in front of her loudly, her eyes wide and excited, biting back laughter as she watched Draco jump and look up from his own volume tiredly.

"What is?"

"I have an idea." She stood, unable to stay seated while her mind worked overtime.

"If it's anything remotely to do with libraries, I'm out, I've have more than a lifetime's worth of studying under my belt." Hermione rolled her eyes ignoring the Slytherins complaints, she did want to point out to him the worth of studying any subject in such detail but feared that it would have about the same effect as when she tried to point it out to Harry and Ron. The boys were far more alike than they realised.

"We should go to Masarvas Manor…or Arden." Hermione hadn't understood the name change, but from what she gathered it was misinformed magic users renaming a great place after someone they deemed to be a great wizard. The fact that so many people could be so wrong for so many years worried her a little.

"What," Draco stared at her for a moment before referring to his book, "even if it has fallen to rack and ruin since the Great Wizard left its walls?" Hermione found herself suppressing a smile at Draco's mockery. It was infuriating that the Slytherin made her smile so easily, even when she was trying so serious.

"Yes, it's perfect. We are trying to find everything we need to know from books we already know more than. If we go there, find the vault, we can find what Arden and Sornious were up to."

"If he kept the scrolls." Draco pointed out

"Yes, I suppose if, but…but what about our theory of obliviating all the witches and wizards." Draco sat back putting his hands behind his head.

"I already told you, that much history, that much stuff, how in Merlin's name would they hide it all?"

"The Masarvas Charm," Hermione stated with triumph.

"Yeah, what about it," he shrugged, Hermione had told him about the special family charm to hide things away, but several lifetimes worth of magical artefacts and history, just gone? It all seemed just a bit too far-fetched to believe, even my old magic's standards.

"Well, if Arden hid things using the family's charm, where do think he'd hide it?"

"You can't be serious?"

"As dragon pox," Hermione stated smugly, using Draco's own catch-phrase against him. Draco raised one eyebrow at her before leaning forward, tapping the table with his fingertips.

"So, if I'm understanding you correctly, your plan is to go to the ruins of the Manor and what, find ancient scrolls and artefacts?"

"Yes, I want to know what Sornious and Arden were doing, what if there are people that need our help?"

"Even after all the time that's passed?" Hermione nodded, while the chances were that there was nothing left at the Manor but ruin, there was always a possibility and that was more than enough.

"Wow, the Gryffindor need to stick their noses into everything know's no bounds."

"It's not about that, look, are you with me on this or not."

"I would, but I feel like you're overlooking a few teensy details," he indicated the amount with his thumb and forefinger, standing up and making his way around the small table.

"Try me." Hermione crossed her arms, meeting his gaze. Draco paused a moment caught slightly off guard by how good Hermione looked when she challenged him. He tapped his foot and looked away, running his hand over his face.

"How do you suppose we get there, don't know about you but I haven't apparated any time soon and I doubt Masarvas Manor is hooked into the floo network."

"You don't know that I'm sure it's popular amongst witches and wizards why wouldn't they have it in floo network."

"so popular that most people don't even know it exists." Hermione's smug smile faltered a little. "Trust me, Granger I can almost guarantee that it's not, plus bursting through the fireplace in a puff of green flames is not the best way to sneak into anywhere, that stuff is recorded. So, pretty much Granger, unless you're planning on magicking your way there using a spell I've never heard of, then you're going to have to rethink your plan a little, there' no way we can get there from here, especially not in one night." Hermione thought for a moment, tapping her foot and biting her bottom lip. He was right of course, the Manor was too far to travel to from Hogwarts, they needed another option, another way.

"What if we didn't go from Hogwarts, we could go from somewhere else, you know during a holiday." The nearest holiday was Christmas which already proved a problem. She was supposed to be skiing with her parents over the holidays which, if she was honest, was not her favourite way to spend Christmas. It was her father's idea to try something new and while Hermione wanted to make him happy she had to admit that skiing really wasn't her thing.

"We still have the problem of getting there, Granger, even during a holiday." Hermione gulped, as much as she wanted to prove him wrong she did not really want to suggest what she had in mind. Taking a deep breath, she met his amused stare.

"You have a broomstick, don't you?"

"That's a bit of a personal question." Hermione blushed but managed to scowl at him.

"You know what I mean, Malfoy."

"You want to fly there?" He muttered, stifling laughter.

"Not want but…but in light of no other options..." Draco nodded once.

"I think there might be one more problem that you haven't thought of."

"Oh, really and what's that?"  
"We aren't allowed to use magic outside of school." Hermione felt all her energy leaving her at once, she couldn't believe that she'd forgotten about something so important.

"Oh, I hadn't…I hadn't thought of that." She stepped round Malfoy slumping into her chair, the plan she'd gotten into her head slowly fading in front of her.

Draco felt bad as he watched her deflate, clearing his throat and stepping closer to her, resting his weight against the table.

"I suppose it's a good thing that I happen to know that rule doesn't apply to old magic."

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened as she looked up at him, happiness overwhelmed by the need to find out just how exactly Draco Malfoy had found out the little snippet of information. "But…but how?"

"How do you think?" He reeled back slightly almost knocking over the huge pile of books as Hermione stood up began hitting him.

"You used magic outside of school?"

"Ow…Granger, ow, yes…will you stop." He snatched her wrist from the air before she could hit him again.

"You could have been expelled."

"Yeah well, I'm not. Besides," he shrugged, "it was Cantiaer, so other than being supremely titillated I'm not sure what they could have expelled me for."

"Ugh, do you take anything seriously?"

"Careful, Granger, I might mistake all this abuse for you being worried about me." Hermione blushed at his words, though they were mocking she could hear the question in them. She also knew the answer was that she was worried about him. The thought of not seeing him anymore actually filled her with far more dread than she wanted to admit.

"You just...you took a huge risk, I don't know how you can be so casual about it."

"Well, at least you know that your plan could still work." He smiled at her and she let out a sigh, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"Yes, well just because it works this time doesn't mean you should go around taking such tremendous risks."

"Says one of the Golden Trio, honestly Granger, for all your love of rules how many of the things have you broken since you've been here?"

"That's not relevant, they were different circumstances, certain things had to be done."

"Wow, sometimes I wonder if you hear yourself." Hermione scowled at him, turning her gaze towards the shelves of books that hid their table from view.

"Excuse me for caring, I just think it's a little daft that you would risk getting expelled for something so…so stupid. Why were you even practising that spell outside of school anyway?" Draco wondered whether he should tell her that he was practising the spell to impress her, that somehow, he'd made up the scenario where he would ask her dance. He decided against it, realising how pathetic it made him sound.

"I had my reasons." Hermione gulped at his words, his voice deeper, like he was whispering a secret, his eyes gazing into hers, so serious and so wonderfully grey. It was the way he'd looked at her the night before by the lake when he'd assured her he wasn't a good person. She'd told him that he could be, but she wasn't sure she was in a position to tell him such things, not when she felt so far from being a good person herself.

"What reasons?" She could have cursed herself when her own voice sounded breathless to her ears. She knew he heard it because his eyes flared with a myriad of emotions that she just wanted to unpack, all the while he ran his fingers through her hair and pressed open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

Hermione shook her head at her own treacherous imaginings, focusing on her breathing in order to steady herself in the real world, where she was Hermione Granger, a clever witch who didn't simply swoon at anyone that showed her the slightest bit of attention and he was Draco Malfoy who very much was a Slytherin who had a girlfriend. It had to stop happening, she agreed with Ginny on that much.

Her red-headed friend had been full of warnings that morning, telling her to stay away, admonishing Hermione for not realising that feelings would only get worse. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but she found herself seeing Ginny's words come to life as being within a certain proximity to him left her feeling dizzy and unable to think straight. She noticed that he seemed to be having the same problem, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the table behind him. Suddenly he was sucking in a breath and turning away, flipping through the large tome Hermione had been reading previously with shaking fingers.

"You know," he shrugged, hoping his words would sound nonchalant, "I figured I could eventually use the spell to annoy people."

"You're such a Slytherin." Hermione scoffed, and he glanced at her from over his shoulder, smiling cheekily.

"Guilty." Hermione couldn't help the sigh of relief that left her when the atmosphere stopped being so stifling.

"So that's settled then, we visit the Manor during a holiday."

Draco made his way around the table, falling into his chair.

"When do you suggest?"

"Well, Christmas is out of the question." Hermione watched Draco's shoulders drop, sadness shimmering in his eyes before being quickly pushed behind the Malfoy mask he liked to wear.

"Right O. Got major plans with the family?" Hermione tried her best to at least look a little excited about spending the holiday with her mom and dad, but she couldn't quite work up the enthusiasm when thoughts of skiing came to mind.

"Wow, Granger at least pretend to look happy."

"I know, gosh I'm sorry, I mean, I love Christmas and I want to me with my family it's just the thought of skiing."

"Skiing? Sounds painful." Hermione chuckled lightly. The Slytherin had no idea how close to the truth he actually was.

"It is a bit, you go down a big snowy slope on these two sticks, it's not my idea of fun."

"Doesn't sound like most people's idea of fun."

"You'd be surprised," Hermione sighed, thinking of the huge grin that had taken over her father's face as he'd booked the tickets, "I just like the quiet family Christmas', just me, mom and dad. We go to the Tall Man Inn every Christmas eve we can, there's always live music and mulled wine and we dance well into the early hours. Then Christmas day is opening presents, eating mom's famous turkey pasta and watching terrible films." Hermione realised that Draco was staring at her, his head rested on his hand and a small smile on his face. She blushed deeply, shaking her head and picking at the pages of the book gently.

"Anyway, that's what Christmas usually looks like…not sure…I don't know why I told you that."

"It sounds nice in a really muggle way." Draco mumbled, and Hermione laughed.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

Hermione watched Draco as he flicked through another tome, a sadness sitting on his shoulders that she didn't know the origin of. She thought of what a Malfoy family Christmas must be like, she guessed a rather muted affair, everything in its place with not much laughter and joy.

"What about you?" Draco glanced up at her confused.

"What about me?"

"What's Christmas in the Malfoy household like?"

"Well, leading up to Christmas father likes to give speeches every night on the dangers of muggles, we drink to their ill health and then we talk about how wonderful it is to be purebloods, laughing evilly well into the new year. It's quite an affair really."

"Ugh, forget I asked." Hermione focused on the book in front of her. she wasn't sure what she was looking for anymore, just any distraction from how idiotic she was to think that Draco Malfoy would ever open up about something so personal.

"My mom," the words were so quiet Hermione thought she'd imagined them, but then he carried on and Hermione felt like she daren't move in case she scared him into silence, "she, she makes this amazing chocolate drink every Christmas eve and we drink it by the fire. Not the house-elves or extended family, just me, my mom and my dad. It's…it's nice I guess. Christmas day is when everyone who's anyone gets invited round and I find a relatively nice corner to hide in." He finished bitterly, his gaze far away.

"Sounds lovely, the chocolate I mean, just spending time with them." Draco looked so vulnerable she felt like she should hold him again.

"Yeah, it is, this year isn't going to be quite the same, but…you can't have everything I guess."

"Why?"

Draco considered telling her that his Christmas would be ruined by the fact that the Dark Lord would be taking over his home and all the people he cared about. He considered telling her that instead of presents he would be surrounded by witches and wizards just like his father plotting the demise of the wizarding world as it was, plotting the demise of people just like Hermione Granger. Instead, he gave her a withering look and she bit her lip, muttering a sorry for nosing too much into his business. If he was honest he couldn't believe he told her about his family Christmas tradition, that was information that he very much liked to keep under lock and key.

"I have to admit that isn't what I expected." Hermione smiled up at him and he grinned back.

"Oh, did I forget to mention the game of curse the muggle we play every Christmas." He mocked, laughing when Hermione's head snapped up, her eyes like saucers.

"Oh, haha, very funny."

"You believed it a little." Hermione lifted her nose into the air, refusing to answer him either way and it made him smile all the more. He realised how much he would miss her over the holidays, how much he would crave spending time with her. it was a fact that no one made him feel quite the way Hermione Granger did.

"Maybe we should have a think about which holiday works best for us and go from there."

"As you wish, Granger." She rolled her eyes at him again as she began packing her stuff away, sighing rather tiredly as she realised the number of books she would have to see back to their rightful place.

"Hey, sit down, I'll do this." Draco placed his hand on her shoulder, pushing her back into her seat firmly.

"You know sometimes, you almost seem a little kind." She sighed as she watched him gather up the books, muttering a quick spell to make them levitate.

"Simmer down, Granger, wouldn't want to compliment me too much." He muttered sarcastically, and Hermione snorted.

"Forgive me for finding it difficult, it's not exactly easy." Draco nodded at her words, shrugging in agreement.

"I understand, I imagine it can be quite intimidating facing such charm and magnetism." Hermione found herself laughing again, covering her mouth when she realised it was echoing all throughout the library. It was worrying how easily she forgot where and when she was, they weren't supposed to be in the library that late and if they were caught it would obviously lead to punishment and questions neither of them would be able to answer.

"You find my charm and magnetism funny?"

"No, just the fact that you think you have them."

"Ouch, Granger, don't hold, back do you?"

"Never."

Once all the books were put away they headed out of the library, their shoulders bumping every few steps. Hermione was sure that Draco's fingers were deliberately brushing hers, and she shamelessly let hers brush his in return, her heart racing with the possibility of them holding hands. She once again thought of Ginny and realised how ridiculous she was being, but for some reason, even that couldn't get her to stop, the tiny sparks of magic that burst between them at each connection were somehow addictive.

She was pulled to a stop when Draco's hand was on her arm, pointing towards the corridor where steps could be heard. Without saying a word, he pulled her down another corridor, hastily moving in the darkness. The shortcut meant they reached the portrait to the Gryffindor common room a lot quicker. Hermione couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, wanting to extend their time together for as long as possible.

"You better go, we don't know who that was just now, could be looking for either one of us." Hermione wanted to tell him that he was being a paranoid idiot, but she knew that he wasn't. If Ginny had woken up then she would be incredibly suspicious about what was taking so long, and no doubt come to check that her friend wasn't making anymore potentially disastrous mistakes and his friends, well his friends had proved that they liked to stick their noses into matters that really didn't concern them. Added to that was the apparent issue of Snape that she was no closer to understanding, except that she now noticed the dark wizard watching her closely, his eyes black and cold.

Hermione nodded, heading into the common room quickly and making sure that she didn't look back. She remembered that Ginny had told her to focus on all the bad and terrible things that Draco had ever done to her, and the red-head was right, there was a great number of them. The only problem was that every she tried to think of them all that came to mind was the vulnerable look he had shown her as he spoke of Christmas, of his mom's famous chocolate drink, of the way he smiled at her. Hermione felt herself slipping down the door, falling into a helpless heap on the floor and burying her head in her hands.

" _You know, you'll reach a point where you won't be able to go back." Ginny spoke with authority as she pointed at Hermione from over the table, leaning close so that no one could pick up on what they were talking about._

" _I don't know what you mean."_

" _There'll be this point, this one point where…where these will be your feelings and that's it."_

" _You're not making any sense." Hermione tried to appear distracted by her breakfast, but her friend stared at her levelly, her one eyebrow raised._

" _The point of no return, Mione. I don't want you to reach a point with him where you can't come back, look at how much he changes." Hermione knew it was right and promised herself it wouldn't happen, promised Ginny it wouldn't happen._

Hermione buried her head further into her hands, shaking her head from side to side.

"I'm sorry." She whispered it in the dark to herself and to Ginny, because she couldn't keep the promise, not even for one stupid day.


	66. Luden and Roses

Thanks so much for all the reviews. Not sure about this chapter but have to say had a lot of fun writing it, hope you enjoy reading.

* * *

Draco flipped through the book of old magic that Hermione had found, hoping that it would offer some clue as to what Hermione had experienced within the Sensieve or at the very least be boring enough to send him into a deep sleep that seemed to be alluding him. Thoughts of Granger and the worry of what he might have to face once he got home for the holidays was enough to keep his mind active and his eyes wide open and stinging. He sat up slightly in bed when he came across the obliviate spell, the information on it suggesting a large number of warnings surrounding its casting, which was far more than he'd ever read.

"Effects all memories, even those that are protected by other spells." He murmured, mulling over the implications. The Sensieve made with powerful magic, some of the most powerful magic he had ever witnessed, it didn't seem possible that another spell could affect it, but then again, if there was a spell that could it would have to be one that was designed to erase memories. That only begged the question of; what it was that Mina had been trying to forget?

Goyle snorted loudly in his sleep, letting out a grunt and turning over violently. Draco shook his head at the large lump of Slytherin; with Goyle making all the noise that he somehow managed to in his sleep it was a wonder he ever got any rest. He glanced at the small scroll he and Granger used to communicate, he had taken to putting it right next to his bed in case she needed him, not that she ever had or would, but there was a potential for it, plus keeping it close to him meant that he could fend off anyone that decided they want to snoop. He wondered whether he should write to her and tell her about what he had found, she would probably be sleeping and wouldn't get his message to till the morning, but if she wasn't? He rubbed his forehead, sighing heavily at his own stupidity, he never really could get used to how time he now wanted to spend with her.

He turned back to the scroll blinking rapidly when he noticed that it was glowing faintly in the darkness. Either someone else had gotten hold of the other scroll or Hermione Granger was up and trying to communicate with him. He gently unrolled the scroll to see two words.

 _You awake?_

Smiling gently to himself he quickly stood, sneaking out of the dorm room as quietly as possible and making his way down to the common room. He eased the door open, scanning the room quickly and sighing with relief when he found that it was in fact empty. Insomnia seemed to be an issue among the Slytherin's many of the students staying up late into the night. Luckily all the Slytherins seemed to be happily tucked up in their beds. He quickly snatched up a quill that lay abandoned on one of the tables, scribbling his reply and hoping that Hermione hadn't given up on trying to talk to him.

 _You caught me!_

There was a brief pause, long enough for Draco's shoulders to drop in disappointment, before three more words materialised below his.

 _Can we meet?_

He considered making a joke out of it, pointing out how unbelievably ludicrous it was that she was asking to meet him, so late at night, especially when she had already seen him that evening, not that many hours ago. He paused though, something wasn't quite right, if Hermione Granger was contacting him so late then something must have happened, something bad. The thought filled him with panic, quickly scribbling down his question.

 _You okay?_

 _Not really._

 _Meet me by the main doors. Wear something warm._

He quickly grabbed his scarf and coat and, after some deliberation, a bottle of Luden's Promise, whose contents had been helping him get through a relationship with Daphne Greengrass and survive Pansy's speeches without Avadaring her ass. It hadn't helped that she'd nabbed little sips in between, which apparently only fuelled her fervour for him to see her point of view, which she assured him was correct. He pulled his large black coat around his shoulders and slipped the bottle into his pocket and guiltily took one last look at the common room. He was acutely aware that he was once again ignoring quite sane advice to stay away from Granger, but if he found it difficult to stay away before, it was harder when he knew that something was wrong. As soon as she ran to him though, throwing her arms around his neck, he forgot that he was feeling guilty about anything. All he cared about was the fact that she was crying, and he wanted to make it better.

"Woah Granger, you okay?" Hermione sniffed and shook her head. Draco held her close, rubbing her back as she cried, his heart racing at having her so close and also with the knowledge that she's sought him out for comfort.

"What happened?" Hermione stepped back, wiping her eyes, sniffing and looking up at him a little embarrassed.

"Can we…can we go somewhere?" Draco nodded, glancing around before gesturing for her to follow him.

Professor Sprout had grown quite a considerable rose garden around the back of the castle that she liked to disappear into when the students had annoyed her, which of course they always inevitably did. Draco knew that she frequented the garden far more when she'd had the privilege of teaching the Slytherins. Their general disregard for most things led her to a point of anger that meant that a few hours in the rose garden was needed. During the Yule Ball, the rose garden had been a sanctuary for any lovebirds wanting to shove their tongues down each other's throats.

If he was honest he had never taken anyone to the rose garden, never shifted close and pulled the ole stretch and cuddle. Whenever he had made the trip it was always alone with the sole purpose of being alone, even timing his visits to a point when he knew that no one would be there. The main reason was that it was beautiful, the flowers magically blooming all year round, the scent of them wonderful and calming. Whenever his thoughts got a little too loud, or the people around him a little too much, he would retreat into the eternal summer and try not think about anything for a while.

He heard Hermione suck in a breath when he gestured for her to enter through the archway, her eyes darting to him and back to the garden. He was a little worried that perhaps she knew the rumours of what people did in the rose garden, but after a few seconds, she stepped inside, seeming to be unfazed by being there alone with him.

"Professor Sprouts rose garden?"

"The one and only, it's good to see your skills of observation are up to scratch, even at this time of night." She glanced back giving him a withering look and he was suddenly stunned by how beautiful she looked in the setting, Roses of all colours bloomed around her, snow blanketed the floor a stunning white, and tiny fireflies flew lazily in the air, seemingly unconcerned with the cold outside. Although Draco had no particular love or care for anything that Professor Sprout taught them, he had to admit that what she had done with the garden was rare and beautiful and the sight of Hermione stood within it, staring in open-mouthed wonder was beyond magical.

"I've never been here before, Viktor wanted to bring me here the night of the Yule Ball, but…well you know, we ended up in the Sensieve." Draco imagined, with happiness, the middle finger he would wave in the seeker's face next time he saw him. He knew exactly what the dickhead had been planning, bringing her into the garden and it made him want to send a particularly nasty jinx in his direction.

"Professor Sprout used to tell the first years that some of the roses could bite, genius really, hardly anyone comes here now."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Hermione mumbled, sitting herself down on a bench and watching as Draco settled himself next to her.

"So, Granger, what's the matter?" Hermione stared at the snow-covered ground and sniffed again, worry making her stomach cramp painfully.

"Ron's dad…Harry said that he saw him being attacked."

"What?"

"I…I know it doesn't make much sense, but Harry…he's been having these visions and well, he saw Ron's dad being attacked."

"But if it's just a vision then…"

"Professor McGonagall came to get the twins and Ginny, apparently it's true." Draco sat back, his mind reeling. He wondered if this was what his father had meant in his letter, were his plans coming together?

"I wanted to go with them, but McGonagall, she wouldn't let me."

"Has Potty gone?" Hermione nodded.

"I think so," she wiped her cheeks with her fingers, more tears quickly replacing those she had dried, "I waited for him, but he didn't come back."

"Hey, hey, Granger it's okay." Hermione glared at him and he drew back.

"It's not okay, I care too, I want to know that he's okay too and I just…I get left behind. Apparently, the rules that apply to me don't apply to Harry." Draco was actually shocked that Hermione was speaking out against the spectacled wonder, but he knew that it wasn't because she believed what she was saying, she was worried and being angry was just an easier way of dealing with it.

"It just feels like, sometimes…sometimes I'm overlooked. Harry has so much to deal but I…"

"You've got your own shit too," Draco said with a nod, digging the bottle of Luden's Promise out of his pocket and unscrewing the lid.

"Yeah." Hermione breathed, watching as he took a swig of the clear liquid and offered it to her. She eyed it suspiciously.

"Don't worry, it won't kill you, Granger, only mildly singe your insides." Hermione reached out lifting the bottle to her lips, hesitating only a moment before taking a sip and instantly falling into a coughing fit.

"Geez, it feels like drinking fire."

"I actually feel like drinking fire would probably be easier. It will burn your troubles away though." Hermione took another swig, wincing slightly but managing not to cough or splutter.

"Never would have guessed, Granger handling her drink like Slytherin," Hermione smirked a little.

"I'm full of surprises." Draco thought she didn't know just how achingly right she was, how much she constantly threw him off with all the little things she slowly revealed about herself.

"Is the head of the Weasley clan okay?" He muttered as a way of distraction from the direction his thoughts were heading, cutting those buggers off at every pass.

"I don't know…I think…I think so or at least I hope." Draco wiped his face, he wasn't very good at the whole comforting thing, but he wanted to least try for her.

"Well it's obvious people are looking into it and with Potty on the case I don't think anyone up to anything nefarious is going to get away with it." Hermione paused but eventually nodded, wiping more tears from her eyes. "I think you should drink some more and forget about it for now."

"Forget about it? How can I forget about it? Someone I care about is injured and…and hurt and I'm stuck here." Draco slipped his arm around her shoulder gently, hoping it wouldn't cause the fiery Gryffindor to lash out at him.

"That's my point Granger you're here. Going over the same crap isn't going to change that."

Hermione was quiet for some time before taking a large sip of Luden's Promise, her eyes watering more from the dreadful drink than being upset.

"You're strangely insightful." She handed the bottle back to him.

"I'm full of surprises." He winked at her, taking his own sip of firewater and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes widened slightly when Hermione shivered, her whole frame shaking violently just once.

'You cold?"

"A little." She nodded feeling suddenly shy in – whichever way she looked at it – the quite romantic setting.

"Hold on, hold this." Draco handed the bottle to her, undoing the buttons of his coat, revealing a deep green t-shirt.

"Wow, house-coloured pyjamas."

"Got to let people know what you stand for, even when sleeping," Draco mocked, and Hermione giggled a little, realising, with horror, that the clear liquid was actually going to her head a lot quicker than she'd imagined it would.

"What are you doing anyway?" Hermione eyes him suspiciously as he opened out his coat.

"You trust me?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I don't know," she mumbled, eliciting a grin from the blonde.

"Smart move, Granger." He gulped meeting her gaze and opening his arms. "Come here." The last two words were spoken much more gruffly, in a tone of voice that made Hermione's stomach knot with something other than worry. She knew she shouldn't be there with him, not supposed to be getting drunk while her friends dad was possibly dying, but she had to admit that Draco was right, all her worry would not change anything, so she slipped along the bench and allowed him to pull her into his arms, her cheek resting against his chest as he tried to pull his large coat around her shoulders. She tucked her legs up beneath her, her own heart speeding up when she realised how fast his heart was racing.

"How are you so warm?" Hermione marvelled, realising that she had always thought that he would be a cold person. Draco's laughter vibrated through his chest and she found she loved the feel of it against her cheek.

"Part Luden's Promise, part survival."

"Survival?"

"Dungeons are a cold place, Granger, need to keep warm somehow." Hermione laughed, letting her arm slip around his waist, bottle clutched in her fingers.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually think you might be making me feel better."

"You sound surprised." Hermione handed the bottle to him when he gestured for it, glancing up to watch him take a swig, hypnotised by the bob of his Adams apple and the glisten of liquid on his bottom lip. She gulped and looked away, her fingers curling around his side, the feeling slowly returning to them as his body heat warmed them.

"Well you don't exactly make this side of you known, do you?"

"People will come to expect it then, and that's just a whole of nice to live up to."

"I reckon you could do it." Hermione became aware that his arm was draped the length of her body, her own coat falling away so she could feel his hand resting all molten on her hip.

"Nope, only special people receive my kindness."

"Oh, so I'm special." Hermione could hear herself flirting and wanting to hate it, but the moment was serving as a beautiful distraction, she was left breathless by this side of Draco and the drink was making her feel giddy. He rested his cheek against the top of her head as if it was the most natural thing, and she could feel his smile against her skin.

"Brightest witch ever to grace Hogwarts, if you don't realise you're special then you're way more of an idiot than you like to have people believe."

"That sounded like a compliment, back-handed mind, but a compliment." She teased leaning back to meet his gaze, stunned by how beautiful he looked when he was relaxed, a lopsided grin on his face.

"It might have been."

"I thought Slytherins didn't do compliments." Draco shook his head in mock seriousness.

"Oh, we do, just rarely is all."

"What? Right time? Right place?"

"Right person." Hermione felt as though her heart had actually stopped, his gaze all serious, so dark in the low light. She turned away and had another drink.

"Ugh, that tastes disgusting." She took another swig though, just to be sure and Draco laughed at her, his thumb beginning to trace maddening circles on her hip.

"You sound like Pansy." Hermione frowned at the insinuation that she sounded like the Slytherin brunette.

"She hates this stuff but somehow finds it in her to keep drinking." He smirked and Hermione blushed, settling back into his side.

"You're the one that suggested I should relax."

"That I am and congrats on a job well done."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Granger."

"What's she like?" Hermione muttered, feeling disconnected from her body as she ran her fingers up and down Draco's side, watching his stomach jump beneath the green material.

"What's who like?" He asked, letting out a shaky breath. He considered that maybe drinking late with Granger was a bad idea, but she felt so good against him, her fingers dancing across his side, tiny sparks of magic forcing him to bite back a groan.

"Pansy?" Draco frowned, it was difficult to think straight with Granger this close.

"Why you want to know?" Hermione shrugged, her fingertip tracing tantalizing patterns along his stomach.

"I just, I guess I don't really know her and, well maybe she is different to what I expect." He smiled down at her, ever the compassionate Gryffindor, always trying to find the good, it was such an infuriatingly nice quality but at that moment he couldn't be annoyed at her for it.

"She's…she's Pansy. Nosy, moody, she can make you feel like shit with just a few well-placed words, but…she cares about people, well some people. And when Parkinson cares for you," he sighed shaking his head, "well she'll literally do anything for you.''

'Really? She's always so…mean."

"Tell me about it. You're lucky that you're rarely on the receiving end."

"What? Your friends are always mean to me."

"Trust me, Granger, they're mean to everyone."

"Even you?" Hermione was leaning back and looking at him again in disbelief.

"Especially me."

"I thought they all followed you around like lost puppies."

"Pfft, yeah of course they do and I'm a Gryffindor."

"There might be some Gryffindor in you, I shouldn't write it off just yet."

"Ugh, I was having fun Granger, now I just feel sick." Hermione laughed along with him, pressing her cheek against his chest again, watching his fingers jump against the neck of the bottle and tiny tremors move throughout his body as she spelt out her name on his chest. She had no idea why she was suddenly so brave, touching him brazenly, but then again she couldn't think past the violent pulse of his heart and the breaths that he took in and shakily let out.

"You know…I want – I want to thank you, you're actually…I thought this night would be, argh, I thought I'd be alone but…but I'm not."

"Yeah well, I'm happy to help." He took another gulp of Luden's Promise wondering by all things Merlin how he was managing to keep any sort of control when Hermione was drunkenly driving him to distraction, her innocent touches and the way she looked up at him, cheeks all red and glowing, lips slightly parted.

"You know, I've been thinking…with everything that's gone on with Ron's dad, I think I want to stick around over the holidays."

"Understandable I guess." He muttered, gritting his teeth when Weasley was mentioned, he held back his distaste though, she didn't need him pocking fun at her friend, no matter how much he wanted to.

"And well, if I'm around then we could go to the Manor. What do you think?"

"I think that we should drink to that.' He passed her the bottle smiling as she took a deep gulp handing it back to him. She couldn't believe that she felt better, here with Draco Malfoy holding her and comforting her as if it were normal, as if they had done it so many times before. Hermione thought vaguely of what Daphne would make of the whole situation, but her head was too fuzzy and everything about the moment was too nice.

There was also the added issue that Harry had mentioned Draco's father's involvement with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and that spending time with Draco seemed like a slap in the face to her friends and all that they were going through. But she couldn't see that in the Draco that was holding her, he was so different to what she expected, so different to anything that any of them expected and she liked it, she liked it so much. Another thing that niggled at her as Draco tugged her closer - resting cheek against her head again, mumbling about her bushy hair - was the fact that when they had all gone Draco had been there for her and he had made her feel better.


	67. The Slytherin Games

Theo cleared his throat, hoisting himself out of his seat sandwiched between Blaise and Draco. The two were seriously discussing the nuances of drinking Firewhiskey, apparently, the thought of mixing the blessed beverage with anything other than more Firewhiskey was a travesty that Malfoy simply could not get his head around. With a flourish Theo swept aside a few wrappers and empty glasses from the table in front of him and stepped up, surveying the common room that was, as per the time of year, packed full of Slytherins.

The end of term Christmas party was something that Theo knew with certainty his house did with flare; every student putting aside grievances and general hatred to celebrate the wonderful time of year. Every Slytherin brought offerings of food and alcoholic beverages that they had managed to smuggle into the school in wonderfully varied ways. And when Snape was searching for contraband it paid to be imaginative. Theo shook his head as he spied a fourth year filling his glass from a repurposed trunk.

"My fellow Slytherins." There were a few heads that turned but ultimately most of the room carried on with the festivities ignoring whatever he had to say.

"Oi, shut it!" Pansy shouted smiling wickedly at Theo when the room fell silent.

"Ever grateful, Pans. Now, my fellow Slytherin's we are approaching the end of the year, and what a year it's been." The room erupted in cheers and several beverages were thrown resulting in a few choice words from the people it landed on.

"As you know-AS YOU KNOW," Theo shouted, smiling charmingly when he once again got their attention, "Christmas is a time of cheer, a time of coming together and getting shit faced and of course…" He paused, glancing around the room for added effect, "the Slytherin games."

The common room was once again full of the celebration, clapping and cheering bouncing off the walls. Theo sometimes wondered whether the Slytherin common room moved into the dungeons simply because they made far too much noise, he wouldn't have blamed people if they had, no amount of begging, pleading or punishing would have got his housemates to shut up at that precise moment. He knew why though, the Slytherin Games were a tradition that took place every Christmas, one last hurrah to bring the year to a close and also give the Slytherins that were staying at Hogwarts over the holidays, at least one thing to celebrate. When Theo had found out about the tradition in his first year he had taken it very seriously, determined to run each and every game from that point on, and it had to be said that he had succeeded. Though there were a good few people that despised Knott, he did have a flair for those types of things and every year he had run the games had been a year to remember.

"THIS YEAR I host one of my most daring games yet, a game that has not been attempted since the debacle of '92." There were a few winces among the crowd and some evil looks sent Crabbe and Goyle's way, who seemed to be trying to sink further and further into the sofa, taking a rather worried looking Pansy with them. The debacle of '92 as Knott liked to call it, had been the first attempt that Theo had made to run the games and it had not gone entirely well. Rudolph's nose was game of patience and cunning, where the Slytherin who crossed the threshold of the common room with the nose would win the grand prize. The only problem was when everyone had finally made their way back to the common room it became obvious that there was no prize because Crabbe and Goyle had taken it upon themselves to eat it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, a new, original, reimagining of a classic.'

"That doesn't make any sense." Matty Owes, who was sat at the back with his other weird and spotted friends spoke up, swaying precariously as he tried to stand.

"Your face doesn't make any sense." Pansy countered, nearly knocking off her headband of singing Christmas trees as she pointed at him, her gaze suggesting that his very existence offended her at that precise moment. "Thank you Pans. Everyone hold onto your hats as I give you, the new and improved Rudolph's nose." Theo held up a small round red object, and when he lifted it towards the crowd two tiny wings sprouted out of its side.

Draco rolled his eyes at his friends' theatrics, knowing for absolute certain that 'Rudolph's nose' was, in fact, a repurposed Snitch he'd nicked from the Quidditch store, only agreeing to that so he could watch all of Theo's failed attempts at turning the thing red. Draco had to admit it was a better idea than they'd come up with in second year, painting a pixie red and releasing it into the castle had to have been a stroke of genius on par with letting Crabbe and Goyle guard the prize. The little red bugger had wreaked havoc all throughout the school before somehow disappearing, lucky for them the damage was assumed to have been the orchestration of Peeves who was always particularly active and annoying during the festivities.

No one seemed to care though, a general ripple of excitement passing throughout the students as they muttered amongst themselves. Draco chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. He had found that, while there was a general sense of apathy when taking part in anything that had been remotely organised for enjoyment, Slytherins tended to work up quite a lot of enthusiasm when it came to games that had been invented by their own, added to that, of course, the amount of alcohol they had consumed. He took another sip of his Firewhiskey, watching as Pansy drained her glass and clumsily reached for the purple bottle on the table in front of her. She was chucking back a considerable amount of Wizz Bomb Wangers, a cherry liqueur that crackled on your tongue; a night spent drowning your sorrows with that lead to a tongue the size of a Quaffle and a hilarious inability to talk properly.

He smiled to himself as he noticed that his other friends were not holding back on their drink, grinning goofily at one another as they emptied their glasses and hastily refilled them. Draco was biding his time, there would come a time when everyone was so drunk and so invested in the game that he could slip out and go meet Granger. Hermione had decided that they needed to plan everything they were going to do when they eventually arrived at Masarvas Manor. He really couldn't have cared less if they had no plan at all, as long as he got to see her again. The previous night, where they'd spent hours together felt like a dream and he wanted to see her again just to make sure it had all been real; all those looks she gave him, the gentle caress of her fingers along his side, the fact that they had actually had time together that was just them, no Sensieve, no thoughts of all the crazy crap that could possibly come, just them.

"The name of the game is to find Rudolph's nose," Theo jumped off the table, opening the door to the common room and letting the red Snitch fly out into the darkness. "The first person to have the nose and come through that door." He pointed behind him, "wins the grand prize." There was a collective intake of breath as every Slytherin turned to the table by the fire. Every person in the room had brought an offering of sorts, adding either food, drink or various interesting nick nacks, till they filled the entirety of the table. Theo sauntered over to it, standing behind it with his arms spread wide.

"Look closely friends, because all this could be yours. Now, groups no bigger than four people and before you leave everyone, and I mean everyone, has to put their wand into this." He casually kicked a basket at his feet that seemed to jump to life, its lid snapping at the air. A few of the older witches and wizards winced.

The Slytherin common room housed the highest concentration of cursed objects in the whole school; various implements that tried to bite your hand off if you went near them, or the rather annoying suit of armour that liked to trap unsuspecting students in its arms, not letting go till it received a kiss from a fair maiden. Blaise had once been trapped for half a day simply because the only girl within kissing distance was Millicent.

"I'm not going near that thing," Anrose stated from her place on her boyfriend's lap, flicking her hair over one shoulder and looking to her beaux for support.

"She's got a point, Knott, that thing is evil."

"Quit being such a Hufflepuff." A second year shouted, receiving a cheer of agreement in answer.

"Which of you little fuckers said that?" Anrose was deposited unceremoniously on the floor as her boyfriend rose to pick out whichever unfortunate second year he decided had made the comment.

"Now, now everyone, calm down, this is not the time for fighting," although for some reason the Slytherins always seemed to think that it was, the amount of fights spiking considerably on the final day of term, "now is the time for celebration and joy, and every second we waste here the further away Rudolph's nose gets." This seemed to have the desired effect, Anrose and her boyfriend assuming their earlier positions and the room once again turning their attention to Theo.

"Now I understand some of the older students having…er…reservations about using Barty" he said, gently tapping the top of the large wicker and quickly snatching his hand away before it could bite him, "but I assure you that my friends and I have found the all-important catchphrase, so when it comes to getting your wands back, he'll be as docile as an Imperiused kitten."

Some of the sixth and seventh-year students didn't seem to sure, eyeing up the basket suspiciously. Draco could understand, he had it on good authority that Snape had used the basket as a form of punishment, placing various important items that the students needed within its depths and ordering them to retrieve it. It wasn't just that Barty bit, and bite he did, it was the other nefarious things that lurked within the baskets depths and if the right words weren't spoken then there was no telling what you were dipping your hand into. Barty as a punishment had eventually been stopped when a particularly angry parent complained that their child had severe night terrors over what they had seen in a wicker basket. Barty was muzzled and placed in the corner of the room, but some students still would not go near it and when asked about their experiences they would simply shake their heads, turning pale and shivering, their eyes vacant and scared as if witnessing some unseen terror.

"I don't know, seems like a heck of a risk." Theo rolled his eyes, dramatically pulling a small scroll from his pocket and pointing his wand at the basket.

"Bartyus Buxus." The wicker basket, whose lid had been snapping violently instantly stilled, allowing Theo to open and close it with ease. "See, nothing to be afraid of."

A first-year stuck his hand up, waving it about frantically till Theodore noticed and nodded at him rather tiredly.

"Yes?"

"Why can't we just keep our wands?"

"Because when I put a protective enchantment around the grand prize, I don't want some cheeky git wandering back and somehow disarming it, not looking at anyone in particular," Theo stated, casually glancing at all the people that had in fact tried it over the years, Draco and Blaise been just two of them. That was the only problem planning a game for Slytherins, every possible angle of cheating had to be thought of and guarded against, which realistically went against Theo's nature.

"Right now, if that's everything, and no one else has any questions, perhaps you can all put your wands in the basket, get in your teams and let's get this show on the road." He clapped his hands loudly and rubbing them together in excitement, out of all the years that he had run the games he had a good feeling about this one, a really good feeling.

"Remember groups no bigger than four, I don't want half of the Slytherin house contesting for the prize because they were 'part of the same team'." There was lots of shuffling and chatter but eventually, Theo had a basket full of wands and groups of Slytherins ready to be let out on the chase.

"Things to look out for, as we all know Peeves is particularly active at this time of year, try not to provoke him and he'll be, well he'll be a little less annoying. Filch, he's always trying to shut this down, so move as stealthily as possible." There were several laughs of derision and Draco could see their point, most of the older Slytherins were struggling to stand without having the worry of being stealthy about it.

"Well, just try not to get caught, Filch is about as cuddly as a dragon at the best of times but Christmas?" Theo shivered, remembering one of his own run-ins with the caretaking squib during the run-up to the holidays and it had not been pretty, there had been threats of shoving tinsel where Theo didn't bear thinking about. The brown-haired boy fingered the tinsel around his neck uncomfortably before grinning up at the waiting faces.

"Everyone ready? Oh erm, anyone caught with their wand will answer to Crabbe and Goyle." There were a few huffs as several people in the crowd moved towards the basket, dropping their wands in with faces like thunder. "Right, let the games begin." He opened the door and quickly stepped to the side before he was sucked into the vortex that was determined Slytherins.

Eventually, he was the only one left, turning with a sigh he paused, momentarily startled by the presence of Daphne behind him. She was wearing a green pointy hat, a dainty bauble hanging from the tip and it looked unbelievably good on her. She tipped her head to the side a rather large smile spreading across her face, dimpling her rosy cheeks.

"Where did…where did Malfoy go?" Theo asked, glancing around the common room just to be sure that the blonde hadn't fallen behind some furniture in the scuffle. Daphne laughed shrugging her shoulders, the sound of it making Theo want to melt a little.

"I guess it's just you and me." She commented, her eyes not leaving Theo as she walked towards him. Theo gulped, he knew it was a bad idea, a very, very bad idea, but at that precise moment, he couldn't actually think why.

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

Draco sighed in relief when he managed to untangle himself from the crowd, disappearing down a small dark corridor, a smile already growing on his face at the thought of seeing Hermione again. Blaise and Pansy had not been that difficult to throw off, what with the press of bodies all determined to try and trip others to give themselves a head start. He'd thought that he would have had more difficulty trying to extract himself from his blonde girlfriend, but to his relief, he hadn't even been able to see in her in the fray.

He rounded the corner and there she was, waiting for him, looking so adorable in her woolly hat, scarf and gloves. When he'd asked her where she wanted to meet again, she had seemed dead set on returning to the rose garden, a small blush lighting her cheeks. He wondered if it was because they'd had such a nice time there with him and the thought made his chest puff a little. He knew it was probably more to do with the fact that the place looked beautiful, but he ignored that, because imagining it was to do with him was much nicer.

"Hey, Granger." She turned, and he nearly died when she smiled brightly at him.

"I thought," she glanced around the corridors confused, "I thought I heard something, was going to go and investigate."

"Of course, you were." He smiled down at her fondly. "Probably my fellow housemates making idiots of themselves trying to chase a red snitch."

"What?" The entire sentence seemed to have thoroughly confused Hermione and Draco chuckled. It wasn't very often she looked confused, but he had to say that it was incredibly adorable.

"We call them the Slytherin games…I'll explain in a bit, perhaps we should get out of the corridors before one of the aforementioned idiots comes alone."

Hermione nodded following him out the door and into the crisp snow, the sky clear and full of stars above them, the air still. The lake looked as though it were made of glass and Draco had an unbelievable urge to go race across it, hold Hermione's hands as she stumbled over and into him. He shook his head, walking around the side of the castle to the rose garden, hoping that no one else had decided to frequent the garden on the last day of term. He guessed that the bitter cold would scare most of them off.

"Have you heard anything from the Weasley clan?" Hermione cut her eyes at him but sighed heavily.

"Ron said that his dad is fine, still in the hospital, but he's okay."

"Ah, that's good."

"He said that Harry had withdrawn and won't really talk to anyone," Hermione mumbled, she had been worried about her friend all day, especially when reports from both Ron and Ginny had shown that he was no longer interacting with the others. She knew what Harry was like, he internalised everything, blamed himself for the smallest failure and believed that he should save everyone. Something like this would have been a serious blow and would have left him feeling like he had brought evil into a perfectly innocent family.

"Why would he do that, Weasley dad is fine, everything's sorted." Draco shrugged, not entirely believing it himself, there was still the reason of why he was attacked to deal with and also who had attacked him. The possibility that his father had some sort of involvement niggled at the back of his mind, but he bit his tongue. He couldn't be sure and there was no use talking to Granger about something so…sensitive. He had a feeling that she would not be able to keep it a secret from Harry Potter and once the boy wonder knew then everything would come crumbling down around the Spectacled Freak doing 'the right thing'

"Harry…blames himself a lot, if something goes wrong then he thinks it's because of him, because of his failing. He felt that way about Cedric."

"Delusions of grandeur much?" Draco laughed, stifling it when Hermione frowned at him. "My point is Granger; the magical world doesn't revolve around Potty. We all had lives before him and bloodie hell if anything happens to him we'll have lives after. All the things he goes against, all the things that he succeeds at defeating, there's nothing new about them. You know from the memories, these are old threats done in new ways, to think that magickly everything you do or don't do has some bearing on now or the future is…well, it's childish."

Hermione's eyes widened, her step faltering momentarily. It was probably some of the most profound words to ever leave Draco Malfoys mouth and she realised that he was right. Hermione realised that she would have to have a word with Harry when she made it to them.

Dumbledore had made a point of seeking her out, apologising for not allowing her to accompany her friends. Hermione hadn't really known what to say, on the one hand, she felt like he should have been apologising, but then, then there was the fact that she had gotten closer to Draco because she hadn't been allowed to go and she was no longer sure she would have traded that moment.

" _It's quite alright." She said, resting her hands in her lap as she looked over the desk at Dumbledore, his long beard piling on the surface of the desk rather comically. With one wrinkled hand, he smoothed it against his robe and smiled at her knowingly._

" _I imagine you have found plenty of support among the other students." Something in the way he said it made her feel uncomfortable and she couldn't get past the feeling that he knew an awful lot of what she had been up to._

" _Yes, they have been most kind and incredibly supportive." Hermione smiled softly as she thought of Draco, how chivalrous he'd been walking her back to her common room, ignoring the hateful glances The Fat Lady had been throwing him._

" _Good, good, very good. The scent of roses can be good for the soul, so I've heard." Dumbledore grinned and Hermione blushed, quickly excusing herself from the office._

The thought of her meeting made her wonder whether she should tell Draco that it seemed Dumbledore knew quite a lot of what went on in the school. She shook her head, mentally chastising herself for being such an idiot. What could she possibly say, that she thought Dumbledore was on to them. It was already difficult enough to meet with all the issues that seemed to be surrounding them, add their knowing headmaster into the mix and Hermione was sure that Draco would run for the hills, never meeting her again.

"Look, I know he's your friend but…" Hermione jumped at his words, realising she still hadn't moved out of place. "but I'm allowed an opinion too, even if you're going to tell me that it's wrong." There was amusement in his voice and Hermione found herself shaking her head at his words.

"No…no you're right, it is immature, it's just…" She didn't want to say that Harry was sensitive, especially not to his enemy, but he was, incredibly so. "It's just it's difficult to explain that to him without…" Draco nodded sadly.

"I get it, he had a crappy start, that's got to mess you up a little." Something in the way Draco said it was haunted, as if he'd witnessed the atrocity first hand and knew exactly what damage it would have done.

"Yeah." Hermione began walking with him again, smiling up at cheekily after a few moments of silence.

"You're being awfully kind about Harry this evening."

"Don't even go there, Granger, there's plenty I can say about Potty, just being considerate, present company and all that," he gestured to her, his fingers brushing hers when his arm dropped back by his side, "but what I said is true, crap starts usually lead to crap middles and crap ends."

"Unless of course, you do something to stop it." Draco stared at her longingly for a moment, her nose all bright red in the cold, lips parted as plumes of breath clouded into the air in front of her with every step she took. What if he did something to stop it? What if he decided to put an end to all the crappiness? It always seemed so impossible, so out of his hands, but when he was with her, sometimes it didn't.

* * *

Theo gulped as he once again he cast a quick glance at Daphne who was trailing along happily beside him, humming a Christmas song adorably under her breath. He still couldn't fathom how everything landed so blindingly in his favour. If he thought about it too hard it all seemed just a little too convenient, like a trick to catch him out in his traitorous behaviour. He supposed that he could always ask Daphne, come right out and confront her about the whole thing, but then what would he say? Fess up Greengrass I know your game. If it was all just a bit of good ole luck, then he'd look like a wizard with severe mental difficulties and all hope of him ever sweeping Daphne off her feet would be gone.

But there'd been Draco and Pansy and Blaise, and he'd been sure that Daphne had been with them, taking her place next to her blonde boyfriend as she always did. He'd looked away because the thought of her spending one more minute with the Albino cut a huge swathe out of his carefully constructed façade and made him want to sink into one of the common room chairs and drown his sorrows. That was preferable to the other option which included traipsing through the castle with Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed to forget the aim of the game every five fricking seconds.

Somehow though, somehow, she was beside him and, it seemed to him, happily beside him. Theo had noticed over the course of Daphne and Draco's pointless relationship, that Draco's lack of attention or enthusiasm when it came to her had upset her, green eyes welling with tears that he knew she'd ever shed in front of anyone. He'd started trying to make her smile, whispering jokes and funny limericks in her ear, something inside of him glowing when she covered her mouth and let out an adorable giggle.

He couldn't believe that he'd ever accused her of prattling, as every mundane sound that came out her mouth soon became like fricking gold to him and he counted them all, watching over them and going through them at night in his mind like a miser. And that's what he was really, hoarding a wealth of all things Daphne, just for himself, poring over the memories like some weird pervert.

He couldn't really pinpoint when he had become aware of the disastrous changes within himself, or his treacherous feelings, but when he did become aware of them, they became the bane of his existence. Not a day could pass without him wanting to curse his friend till he was nothing but a ferret-sized crater full of dust and pulverized aristocracy. And it was a problem because he didn't want to hate Malfoy, Merlin knew the blonde gave lots of people plenty of reasons, but he was after all his friend. He wanted to wish the happy couple well and go back to the easy pickings of the Zabini castoffs, but it seemed even they were in nought supply; Blaise becoming such a miserable beggar that most of his usual fans were giving him a wide birth. And then, the cherry on the most almightily unfortunate cake was the fact that Daphne seemed to respond to him, seeking him out. Touches and glances became his world and he'd done his very best to ignore the glares that Pansy had been sending his way, because as ever, somehow, she knew.

"It might have gone in here," Daphne suggested, popping her head around the door of an open classroom, before slowly stepping into it, casting him a quick glance to check that he was following her. He was, thumbing the end of his tinsel scarf. He'd got so caught up in his own thoughts that he'd almost forgotten why they were walking the lengths of corridors. He of all people had almost forgotten about his masterpiece. He almost cried at the travesty of it all, how could he have possibly forgotten about something that had been so mercifully important since he'd learnt of the blessed tradition.

The door slammed shut behind him and both students whirled round in surprise. On impulse, Theo reached for the handle his attempts becoming more frantic when he realised that it wouldn't budge.

"What's happening?" Daphne asked, her voice wobbling a little with worry.

"I'm not…"

"Sly little Slytherin's, trapped inside a room. Will they ever get out? We just don't know." There was a fit of manic laughter and Theo sighed, turning his back to the door and falling against it.

"Peeves. Should have known," he whispered to Daphne shaking his head, "THAT DOESN'T EVEN RHYME YOU STUPID EXCUSE FOR A GHOST." He shouted, rubbing his face in frustration. Getting trapped with Daphne was the last thing he needed, he might have wanted it but that was beside the point.

"It doesn't have to rhyme to be true. Will keep you locked away." Theo gave Daphne an apologetic look, letting his head fall back against the oak door. He could hear Peeves muttering and cackling to himself about his wonderful brilliance.

"You know, I feel as though you're in need of new trick, Peeves. Locking people in classrooms, old chap? Come now, that's first year levels of imaginative." Peeves took a moment to deliberate over the statement, before laughing happily.

"Worked on you didn't it?"

"Only because we took pity on you, saw it coming a mile off."

"Pity Smitty."

"Merlin, that's not how rhyming works. You can't just make up words" He turned to Daphne in disbelief, "that's not how rhyming works."

Daphne shook her head, laughter bubbling in her throat and Theo was surprised by the flood of relief he felt at the simple fact that she no longer looked scared. She pushed herself off the wall beside him, wandering amongst the desks and looking back at him, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"He'll get bored before we do."

"No, I won't." Came the petulant reply from the other side of the door. Theo grinned knowing that she was right, Peeves did not exactly have patience, his pranks were short and incredibly annoying, usually incorporating some sort of magical goo that was impossible to get out of clothing. Getting trapped in a classroom was one of his lesser punishments, Theo could only guess that the stupid ghost had not found the rest of the Slytherin house traipsing round drunk and unguarded.

Theo followed her lead, watching as she hoisted herself up onto one of the desks, swinging her legs back and forth merrily, glancing over her shoulder out the window. It was a beautiful night, in the dimness of the classroom Theo could see the spot of stars, could make out the iciness of the lake. He shivered, glad that he was in fact inside and not out in the bitter cold, he supposed the situation could be worse.

"Professor McGonagall would have our heads if she knew we were in here."

"Knott if I have to tell you one more time…" Daphne burst into laughter at the convincing impersonation of their severe transfiguration teacher.

"It's like she's here."

"Sheesh don't say that you might summon her."

"That is true. Out of all the teachers, she does seem to have it in for you."

"Probably because I give her reason to, my level of charm only really works on some people." Theo stopped in front of Daphne, his hands resting against the edge of the desk behind him. He daren't meet her gaze, too scared that it would lead him to do all manner of stupid things.

"You know, I've never really noticed before." She was reaching forward taking in the one end of his tinsel scarf and weighing it in her palm.

"Noticed what?" He asked nervously, gulping as she tugged at the other end of the tinsel, pulling at it gently. Theo straightened, allowing her to drag him forward.

"Your charm."

"Well it's subtle, hides under the radar and catches you by surprise."

"And, how funny you are.' She was whispering her gaze dropping down to his lips.

"Yeah well, when the audience is as good as you, it gives a guy incentive to be funny."

"As good as me?" Daphne mumbled coyly, her eyes twinkling, a light blush on her cheeks as she parted her legs, tugging him even closer.

"Yeah well you're…you're perfect." Daphne's mouth opened the tiniest amount and with another sharp tug, she was kissing him, tipping her head and pulling at the tinsel, her feet hooking around the back of his legs. Theo knew he should probably pull away, but the heady taste of Wizz Bomb still lingering on her tongue and the way she pressed into him made it impossible, a rather unmanly whimper leaving him.

Suddenly she was leaning back, and he was scrambling to mount the desk, propping himself up on his arms so he hovered over her. And all the while she wouldn't let him go, holding him fast against her lips, pushing her hips incessantly up into his.

"Daphne," he breathed, tasting the pale skin of her neck and finding that the flavour made him groan.

"Theo." It was whimpered in reply, head tipped back, her bottom lip between her teeth. He closed his eyes at the sight, the way she looked, the way things were going, the desk was going to see so much more than transfiguration. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, raking at his scalp and making him shiver.

They both pulled away quickly when a screech echoed in the corridor.

"PEEVES, YOU STUPID…ARGH." Theo jumped off the desk, running his finger through his hair and adjusting his tinsel. He took several deep breaths, hoping that in some way they would calm him. He was in a bad, bad situation and he wasn't sure he could joke his way out of it, wasn't sure he even wanted to.

"What's happening?" Daphne was next to him, her hands gripping his arm, breasts pressing against him all warm and tempting.

"I don't…I think Peeves has found a new victim." His suspicions were proven correct when he opened the door easily, the mischievous ghost no longer on the other side. Daphne pressed her weight against the door, urging him to close it again. She gently slotted herself in front of him, back pressed against the dark oak, his hand next to her hip, still wrapped around the handle.

"We don't have to go back just yet." She was fingering the buttons of his shirt and he was leaning into her struggling to find a reason why he shouldn't.

"No, I guess we don't."


	68. The Intentions of Malfoy

Hey everyone sorry it's been so long, have been so busy, but thanks for being patient with me. I have news though, I have been nominated for the Nook Summer awards, Blinded by the Light-Ning; Favourite Hogwarts Era which is just crazy. Thank you to whoever nominated me, can't tell you how shocked and happy I was. If you would like to vote then here is the link: goo*.gl/forms/rmftYXRG9V5yuIff2. (Just take out the star)

I also recommend reading all the other nominations on there because they are crazy good, here's the link for that: * * *spreadsheets/d/10LpRTCokOteUlyEx5sF7uD9FIX-GdT7x32sDmzqnpcw. (Just take out the stars)

Hey somethingnew2016, thanks so much for reading and leaving a review, as for what you said about Hermione's Patronus, you know, I hadn't really thought of that. I guess I was just working on the basis that it was linked to her and so would always be an otter whether she'd cast the spell or not. I apologise if that doesn't make sense, but thanks so much for pointing it out to me. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing, hope you like the new chapter.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?" Ginny asked, meeting Hermione's gaze evenly making her grimace. Of course, she didn't think sneaking out on Christmas eve to meet Draco Malfoy was a good idea, but she was going to do it anyway, not doing it seemed somehow worse. She dug her fingers into the cushion she was hugging and gazed at the peeling wallpaper hanging above the end of her bed. She itched with the want to reach out and pull at it, bringing it down in one satisfying strip, anything to distract her from the conversation she was having to sit through.

"I mean sure, it'll be difficult…but not impossible." If she was honest with herself, getting out of Grimmauld Place without anyone noticing her absence seemed about as close to impossible as was feasibly possible. Especially on the night of the year when everyone was expected to be together, celebrating in good cheer. Mrs Weasley had always taken the cheer of Christmas incredibly seriously, even once beating George over the head when he had refused to look happy in the early hours of Christmas morning. Even with the family somewhat more subdued than normal, she knew it wouldn't be easy to pull off.

"That's not what I mean. Are you sure it's a good idea to meet him alone?" To Hermione's embarrassment, it took her quite a while to realise what Ginny was getting at and when she did her mouth fell open in shock.

"You can't think he'd…"

"Why not? We know things are getting worse, my dad's a testament to that. Bad things are happening and from what Harry's said Malfoys dad is involved, and how many times has Harry been wrong over the last few weeks?" Hermione wanted to point out that Harry had been wrong plenty of times, one only had to cast a casual glance over his school work to see how wrong he could be, but she knew that was not what Ginny meant. When it came to matters of Voldemort it seemed that Harry had been right on every count.

"If his father Dad's involved, what's to say that he isn't? What if this turns out to be some elaborate plan to bring The Order out of hiding?" Ginny suggested as if the whole scenario made perfect sense and Hermione found herself drawing back a little as the words stung. Contemplating that Draco might have been showing any type of interest in her due to an ulterior motive of trying to impress his father and, in so doing, impress Voldemort made her feel a little sick. However, when she thought about it, it didn't make much sense at all.

They had been brought together by accident, an accident that had absolutely nothing to do with Voldemort, or Harry or The Order. It had just been them and the memories they experienced together. Everything about Mina and Edwards world was so far removed from what they were experiencing now that Hermione was left in no doubt that everything she and Draco had gone through, were going through, was not a matter of deception.

"I don't think that's true."

"But it could be." Ginny shuffled closer, crossing her legs in front of Hermione, her eyes full of deep sympathy as Hermione picked at the material of the cushion sadly. The Black coat of arms stared up at her, its colours faded by age and wear, and she traced its outline with her finger as she tried to think of something, anything to say to convince Ginny of what she was so certain of.

"Weren't you the one that encouraged me to spend time with him?" She pointed out trying to laugh off her disappointment and Ginny sighed, staring at a rather tired looking painting or Diagon Alley, that hung lopsidedly on the wall.

"I know, but that was before…before dad…" Hermione's shoulders sagged under the sadness of Ginny's words, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was true that, out of all the Weasley's, Ginny was the most logical, able to keep her emotions in check till such a time when she felt it was okay to fall apart. For Ginny, that time had been when Hermione had arrived at Grimmauld Place. As soon as her bags had touched down in the room the two of them shared, Ginny had been sobbing on her shoulder. Every time her father was mentioned there was a sadness and a worry that filled Ginny's eyes and made Hermione long to make everything better. It never ceased to make her feel guilty. She wanted answers as to who had done it and why, just as much as Ginny, but she found herself wanting to see Draco more. She wondered when it was she had become so selfish.

"I really don't think Malfoy is involved with this…he…" Hermione hesitated. Telling Ginny that she and Draco had planned to meet was one thing, revealing that they had been in constant contact and showing their correspondence was another.

"Of course, you don't considering how you feel about him." Hermione bristled, while Ginny was right she still didn't like hearing it. Maybe she was completely misjudging him because of all the change she'd seen him, all the hidden good things that made it impossible not to like him.

"It's more than that, It's-look I can show you."

"What?" Ginny was eyeing her up suspiciously and Hermione sighed. She supposed that it couldn't hurt, she had trusted Ginny with everything else. She quickly jumped off the bed and rummaged through her bedside table where she'd taken to keeping it. Sometimes he wrote to her late at night, musing about their plan, what they would find when they reached Arden and also about random little things that never ceased to make her smile. She had found herself rather embarrassingly, keeping the messages on the scroll, reading back through them with a small smile tugging at her lips. She picked it up, passing it through her hands before handing it over to Ginny whose forehead furrowed in confusion.

"What's this?" She asked, opening it out letting her eyes scan its contents.

"It's…it's how we talk to each other."

"This is Malfoy?" Ginny asked in shock, her eyebrows rising in clear shock as she let the scroll drop a little. Hermione nodded, and Ginny slowly shook her head.

"Who knew he could be so….so…" Ginny shook her head again, words failing her. "I can't believe he's flirting with you." Hermione blushed, scoffing lightly at the redhead's words. She'd hoped that he was, hoped that there was something about her that was better than Daphne but then she'd always squashed those thoughts beneath logic. While there might have been some element of Malfoy that enjoyed winding it her up, that was all it was, him being his usual Slytherin self.

"Come on, he is," Ginny stated, jabbing her finger into the scroll. Hermione bit her tongue, not wanting to say too much in case Ginny decided to bring up the fact that she had been flirting too. "Everything he says is just to get you to react to him. Like this 'You're a like a miniature horntail when you're angry, adorable but Merlin, feisty'"

Ginny eyes were practically bugging out of her head.

"He's always called me names." Hermione pointed out, shaking her head quickly to dislodge the niggling thoughts of Draco thinking that she was adorable.

"Not like this, this is…weird."

"We've been over this before though, all the nice things, all the things that don't quite seem like him, they could just be the Sensieve." Ginny shook her head, seeming to have forgotten her previous suspicions that Draco was talking to her to undertake some nefarious plot involving Voldemort.

"You'd think an ancient magical bowl would have had plenty of time to learn how to flirt better." Hermione found herself chuckling, tugging her bushy hair behind her ears only to have it spring free moments later.

"You still think it's a trap."

Ginny considered Hermione's question for some time before shaking her head.

"Honestly, no. Everything that's happened to you and him happened way before any of this went on. I think this is, unbelievably, just Malfoy." Ginny lay back on the bed, handing the scroll back to Hermione after reading it a few moments longer.

"Makes you wonder what's going on in his head, doesn't it?" Hermione mumbled, reading a few lines before rolling it back up.

"And also, how in Merlin's name he ever got so much female attention." Hermione giggled, laying down next to her friend, staring at the peeling wallpaper.

"So, you think I should meet him?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I think you should meet him. And who knows, maybe you'll find out more about Edward and Mina on your travels, you know if you're not too busy with other things." Hermione made a disgusted sound hitting a laughing Ginny across the face with her cushion. The Redhead spluttered at the plume of dust that erupted at the collision.

"I just need to figure out how to sneak out of here and back without anyone noticing." Ginny coughed and spluttered waving her hand in front of her face. Eventually, she calmed, her eyes watering slightly as she grinned at Hermione, something rather Slytherin in the way it curved her lips.

"Oh, leave that to me."

* * *

Draco had never been more reluctant to visit the front room of his home before, his feet scuffing against the stone floor as he dragged them to the ever-waiting doom of Daphne Greengrass. His mother had found him in amongst the old part of the Malfoy Library, briefly shaking her head and tutting at the state of him before telling him that he had a visitor. The rather pleased smile that accompanied her announcement told him that it was, in fact, Greengrass waiting for him and he was not in any state to put up with her.

He'd resigned himself to ending things, being with her wasn't distracting him in the slightest and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to catch any sort of amorous feeling towards her. Sure, Pansy assured him that feelings would grow with plenty of contacts, but he was beginning to think that only Professor Sprout levels of gardening would ever make anything remotely romantic so much as sprout between them. It was all made worse by the fact that Daphne and Theo seemed to have no problem with it, their feeling practically blooming in everyone's face, the sight of it somewhat sickening. He supposed though, that their added interest in each other had meant that slipping away to see Granger all the easier, added to that Pansy being somewhat distracted and the last couple of days of term had been a breeze.

He realised it wasn't the best of situations and maybe if he'd been a better person he wouldn't have let it go on as long as he had. Problem was, he hadn't really thought about Greengrass all that much, so ensuring that her feelings weren't being slowly hurt hadn't really cropped up. He supposed though that now was as good a time as any to end things. Put a full stop on the end of a bad idea and carry on as though the whole messy business had never transpired. He winced when he thought of what her reaction would be, no doubt there would be tears, lots of babbling and sniffling as she begged him to explain to her why such a relationship should end. He couldn't be exactly sure but based on her general personality he thought it best to prepare himself for the snottiest and most tearful breakup he'd ever experienced. He'd been so caught up imagining her woeful reaction that he was caught a little off guard when she didn't go through the usual routine of throwing herself into his arms and shoving her tongue down his throat. Instead, she remained with her back to the fire, arms crossed, looking the most composed and collected he'd ever seen her. She didn't look on him with adoration but rather appraised him with a sneer, a sniff of disapproval leaving her when she took in his attire.

"You look a mess." Draco stared down at his filthy clothes then back up at Daphne somewhat at a loss as to what was going on. Everything about her looked Daphne, right down to the long-sleeved red top, with a rather plunging neckline and what Draco guessed were mightily expensive trousers that hugged her legs, but something wasn't right.

"Nice to see you too." His sarcasm lacking some of its bite as he tried to fathom what in Merlin's name was going on. Instead of an answer, or the hurt look she usually threw him when she was the butt end of his scathing sarcasm, she simply flicked her hair over one shoulder, re-crossing her arms and looking down her nose at him. Draco would have bristled at such treatment if he hadn't been in utter and complete shock.

"We need to talk." She stated, gesturing for him to take a seat as she herself sat down. Draco bit back a comment about it being his home and begrudgingly lowered himself into a seat across from her, the sooner they finished their wretched conversation the sooner he could get back to what truly mattered.

"What the matter?" Draco managed through gritted teeth, picking dust off his trousers uncomfortably. When he'd imagined this scenario, he had always been in charge, now it felt as though Daphne were ripping all his pride out from under him and he didn't like it one bit.

"We are going to break up." Draco's eyes widened, sure he'd been expecting such a thing to happen, but he'd been expecting to deliver the bad news, not the other way around. And the way she said it as if he had been the one pining after her for months. "And you're going to tell me why you thought it was okay to use me." Draco's mouth dropped open.

"Use you? I'm not sure…"

"Oh please, you must think I'm an idiot. You don't like me, you never have so, who is it? Does she already have a boyfriend or is it closer to home? A dark stain on the ever-glowing Malfoy name perhaps?" He hadn't meant to react, but his whole body froze at the mention of shame to his family. He'd grown to hate the idea that Hermione was shameful to his family, but no matter how he felt about it, it remained true.

"Are you joking?" Daphne laughed bitterly, a small flicker of sympathy creeping into her eyes. The Greengrass' were yet another pureblood family that obsessed over how wonderfully important they all were to the wizarding community, treating those who were of muggle descent with all the scorn and hatred they could muster. He had no idea what Daphne's stance on the whole subject was, but he guessed it was nowhere near as steadfast as her parents.

Draco clenched his jaw, standing up quickly, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. Usually, his anger would make Daphne shut her mouth, but something seemed to have happened to the blonde and she'd morphed into something else, something less timid and fragile. It was rather unnerving that he thought she'd never looked more attractive, the steely resolve in her eyes reminding him of the steely resolve he always saw in Granger's.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but if that's all."

"Malfoy, you will sit down and explain everything to me, I deserve that much after all the crap you've put me through."

"Oh, come on, I dated you for a bit what more do you want." Daphne looked affronted by his words, tears glimmering in her eyes, but she took a moment to compose herself.

"Dated could hardly be the word to describe our relationship if it even was that. You treated me like a fool. Did you think that just being by my side would keep me happy? A few words, a couple of kisses tossed my way would be enough?" Draco didn't say anything but that was exactly what he'd thought. A little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Granger was admonishing him for being such a careless idiot. Neither he nor Pansy had thought about Daphne's feelings, not even once. He suddenly realised Hermione meant when she told him that he could be a git. Git didn't even go far enough to cover what manner of dick he had been.

"Look, Daphne, I…" He sighed, once again sitting in front of her, running his fingers through his hair and tugging harshly at the ends, "I like you, Greengrass, just not…"

"Oh please, save it. I can't imagine anything more degrading right now."

"But it's true, I wanted to-I wanted it to somehow work, Merlin knows it would have been easier."

"Easier?" Daphne asked sharply, leaning forward in anger, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Not easier, just what everyone expects. Nothing would be messy it would all just…fall into place." Daphne nodded once, although she didn't seem wholly satisfied with the answer. "How did you find out?"

"Oh please, you were about as subtle as a bludger to the face," Daphne scoffed, adjusting her jumper so that the plunging neckline revealed yet more pale cleavage.

"Kind of like you and Knott then?" Draco bit back a grin of triumph when Daphne herself jumped slightly in place, her eyes widening as she looked up at him.

"How did you…"

"Just a guess, good guess though." Daphne looked away from him, staring at the picture of one of his ancestors that hung above the fireplace, the old aristocrat snoring softly, dribbling on himself with such poise.

"And what of it?" Daphne sniffed, turning back to him defiantly. "You were sneaking off to Merlin knows where with Merlin knows who and treating me…the point is Theo _was_ there."

"And that's all you required?" Draco asked cynically, and Daphne frowned at him.

"It was more than you offered. Theo…he's not what I expected. I didn't want to do this, I was going to wait until I'd spoken with you but…well things just happen I guess." Draco could attest to that, though he didn't want to. The amount of time he had fully intended to stay away from Granger and he'd ended up right in front of her, fighting back urges that he felt as though he had no control over.

A silence settled between them, only the crackle of the fire breaking it at regular intervals. He felt as though there were nothing left that he could say, but it seemed that Daphne was waiting or something, perhaps an apology, or for him to show some sort of emotion over the fact that his friend had effectively betrayed him. No matter how much he tried to see it that way he couldn't, the pair of them were, he supposed, good together and it wasn't like he'd ever been wholly invested in the relationship.

"Who is it?" Draco started at Daphne's question and immediately put up his guard.

"No one you need worry about." He muttered, quickly standing once again, very aware that there were portraits of ancestors all around him that had a habit of listening in on conversations.

"Are you going to tell them?" Draco frowned at her question for a while wondering why it was all so important for her to know. They'd talked about everything that mattered, now it was time for them to go their separate ways, no harm done.

"Why would I do that?" He shrugged, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Why not?" Draco gritted his teeth at Daphne's shrug of reply. He hated it when people who didn't understand made everything sound so easy; Pansy and Snape with their insistence that he stay away from Granger and now Daphne with her carefree attitude about telling Hermione Granger something that could literally give her the power to tear the heart right out of him and trample it into dust.

"Because reasons…" Daphne lifted one eyebrow and he sighed. If he was going to get her to leave, he was going to have to play along with whatever warped cathartic game she was playing. "My parents would never allow it."

"Urgh, that's the worse excuse I've ever heard." Daphne groaned, unimpressed.

"It's not an excuse, it's a reality, now if you're quite done with the life counselling, I'd like to get back to being dumped."

"So, that's it? You hurt me, play around with _my_ feelings, only to find the plan you had doesn't actually work and now you're just-just going to quit because of Mommy and Daddy." The ancestor above the fireplace stirred slightly as Daphne's voice rose, only to sink back into soft snoring after a few moments of silence. Draco let out a breath he'd been holding, the last thing he needed was past Malfoy's adding to the disappointment and general contempt he usually got from his father.

"It's not that simple." He ground out and Daphne laughed, shaking her head at him slowly.

"All that really matters is if you care for the person."

"What magical romance novel you lift that from Greengrass?"

"Sod off, Malfoy, it's true."

"Yeah well, thanks so much for the advice."

"Merlin Malfoy, I already know you're a prick, don't prove to be a coward as well."

"Er Slytherin, we aren't known for our bravery."

"Or stupidity." Daphne countered, and Draco found himself well and truly shut up. He watched her lift herself out the chair thinking that she was not the girl that he and Pansy had decided he should try and date. He wondered where that girl had gone to, she was a lot easier to deal with.

"Look Greengrass…"

"Please don't apologise. I want to stay angry with you for a bit longer." She headed towards the fireplace, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned to face him, Floo Powder in hand flames of the fire dancing at her feet, "Oh and don't blame Theo for this. I didn't exactly give him a choice." Draco couldn't stop the surprise from registering on his face and Daphne seemed mildly pleased with herself.

"Wow, predatory."

"What can I say," the blonde shrugged, "I go after what I want." She batted her eyelids the way he'd become accustomed to over their non-relationship and Draco realised with sickening clarity that there was a definite reason why Daphne Greengrass was a Slytherin. Both he and Pansy had thoroughly misjudged the blonde, seeing as little more than a means to an end, someone that would go along for the ride and complain very little about the crappy journey. But they'd been wrong and Greengrass had struck before either of them had realised she'd been waiting to attack.


	69. Fashionably Late

Ginny hummed gently under her breath as she adjusted Harry's invisibility cloak on Hermione's shoulders.

"Remind me how you got this again?" Hermione asked, looking down at the space where her arms should have been, though she knew they were nestled safely under the cloak she still found their absence somewhat disconcerting.

"By being sneaky," Ginny shrugged, shooting Hermione a small smile before stepping back to admire her work. "There, now all you need to do is lift it over your head and we are well away." Hermione nodded taking another deep breath. It couldn't go wrong, no one would be able to see her, and Ginny had assured her that if for whatever reason she was caught, there were a whole number of likely backup stories she could call upon. Hermione was sceptical, but then again, Ginny did have Fred and George for brothers, she figured she must have picked up something from their antics.

"Run me through the plan again?" Hermione asked unsteadily, and Ginny sighed, giving Hermione a pointed look which she tried not to shrink under. They had gone through the plan countless times, obsessing over every detail because Hermione wanted to be sure. Now though, she knew her questions were betraying just how worried she actually was.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I haven't seen you this nervous since I offered some impromptu flying lessons." Hermione frowned at Ginny, hoisting her small bag onto her shoulder trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies that felt as though they were trying to batter their way out of her stomach.

"Of course, I'm sure, I just feel that I need to be absolutely certain of what I'm doing." Ginny sighed, taking a seat on the bed behind her and picking up a small royal blue box, the sides of which were decorated with all manner of magic pictures. It was a child's toy whose twin was nestled safely in the bottom of Hermione's bag. Ginny had dug them out of the twin's belongings and Hermione guessed that Fred and George's decision to take them to Grimmauld Place had very little to do with sentimentality.

Ginny tapped the top of the box and a small wizard sprang out of its confines, his shrill voice announcing _Lumos_ as he waved his tiny smiled a little when the tip of the wizard's wand glowed faintly.

Hermione grit her teeth to fight back a twinge of jealousy. The toy made it so very obvious that Ginny had been surrounded by magic her whole life, had been given magical toys such as these when she was a child, had laughed and giggled at the delight they brought, and all the while learnt about something that was such a huge part of herself, and she had not. Hermione had always felt that she'd fallen into step with the wizarding world far too late and as such had done her utmost to prove that those years didn't matter. She supposed they didn't, not really. Still, watching Ginny press the wizard back into his small box, she couldn't help the niggling thought that they would have been nice.

"Right, so first things first, it was making everyone think that you're not feeling one hundred per cent. Not enough for mom to crack out the famous Podie Mills 'cure all ills' Potion," Ginny gave a violent shudder at the thought. Hermione had never been subjected to the potion, but she had it on good authority from all of the Weasley households that it was, both disgusting and utterly useless, "but just enough for you to disappear off to bed with very little chance of anyone disturbing you."

Hermione nodded, that part of the plan had been relatively successful, with Ginny quickly brushing off any of her Mother's suggestions that leant even slightly towards Podie Mills' devil brew.

"Me, being the amazing friend that I am, offered to keep you company. So that should stop anyone having a nose. And if they do visit, for whatever reason. I can be a buffer to send them on their merry way."

"And if Fred and George turn up?" Hermione worried her bottom lip at the thought of them finding out. They would probably want to know everything, be in on the little scheme and Hermione knew that absolutely could not happen. If either one of them found out she was meeting Draco, they would no doubt trail her, so they could curse jinx him all the way back to Malfoy Manor.

"If my idiot brothers turn up, I tell them you're on some boring booky errand that is a secret for studying next near and watch them practically die of boredom," Ginny said dryly, meeting Hermione's worried gaze, "they won't turn up though. Those two have been distracted all holiday. They aren't going to suddenly take an interest in your comings and goings." Hermione knew that Ginny had a point, but he also knew that the twins could change, just when you thought you'd gotten used to their pattern of behaviour.

"That all sorted, you are going to use Harry's cloak, which he won't miss, not on Christmas Eve. Any listening in, we have the extendable ears." Ginny said quickly, cutting off the argument that Hermione was about to make, one she had made several times. "You'll use the cloak to sneak out to that old bat's place."

"Durie." Hermione amended. It had taken a while to get used to the fact that Ginny no longer remembered the strange and beautiful character that was Durie, instead, recalling a rather senile old woman that had tried to feed them mouldy biscuits.

"Yes, yes and then use her magical doors to take you home, where you are going to meet Malfoy. At the church is it?" Hermione nodded quickly, the butterflies in her stomach kicking the activity up a notch at the mention of his name.

"Anything goes wrong here," Ginny held up her Wizard in the box, "I push this guy down and yours should spring up," she paused a moment laughing, "Gosh it's a good job the twins aren't here." Hermione found herself chuckling along nervously, anxious to get going but petrified to take the first step. Everything about it felt like a betrayal, even though, realistically, it was nothing so drastic.

"If the wizard goes back in his box quick, I've diverted the issue, if he stays out, then get back here as quick as possible." Hermione nodded looking at the small wizards' toy in her friends' hand.

"I can't believe we are using toys to communicate," Hermione mumbled, and Ginny chuckled.

"Genius really when you think about it, no one would suspect." Hermione found herself feeling a little easier at those words because no one would suspect. Just like the innocent and understated toy, Hermione knew that no one would suspect her of doing anything so daring. They would all assume that she was in bed and unless by some strange magical miracle, one of them somehow had invisibility cloak x-ray vision, no one would catch her.

"You ready?" Hermione nodded quickly, taking one last deep breath and pulling the cloak over her head.

"Can you see me?"

Ginny shook her head, "Just an old room and some dust."

"Right, let's do this."

Sneaking out had been a lot easier than Hermione had expected. Everyone was sat in the front room, their voice filtering through the small gap in the door. It was obviously a serious conversation, but Hermione, to her regret, knew she couldn't stick around to listen in, she was already running a little late as it was. When she'd reached the front door, she'd expected it to at least creak, signalling her betrayal to everyone. But it didn't, and Hermione silently thanked Ginny for the forethought of slathering the hinges in Not-A-Peep solutions, once again courtesy of the twins who liked to keep a bottle about before their times of apparating here, there and everywhere.

When Hermione finally made it out the house she stood on the doorstep, hardly able to believe that she'd managed it, breathing in the cool air of the night, free to do as she liked. Of course, she'd never doubted the plan, only her ability to pull it off. She knew that this what not how she was supposed to be and if Harry or Ron found out they would most likely narrow their eyes as if looking at something unfathomable. Hermione felt an indignant pride within her, because this was her, sneak out on an evening to go meet a boy. She wondered if this side to her that Malfoy seemed to draw out was there all along, just overshadowed by everyone's expectation that she, Hermione Granger, would always stick to the rules.

Shaking her head, she hurried down the steps to Grimmauld Place and out onto the snow-covered streets, locating the alleyway rather easily, the barbershop pole now hanging completely upside down and swaying with a squeak in the lick of breeze that moved through the street. Flakes of snow skittered along the surface of the blanket of white, kicked up into little plumes that seemed to burst and scatter. Hermione revelled in the silence, noting the fact that if anyone had followed her, she would be aware of their presence almost instantly.

Durie's house was even more beautiful than Hermione remembered, and the Gryffindor found herself stilled by the sight, mouth hanging open slightly. Tiny flowers of silver and gold poked through the thick layer of snow that covered the vines, their petals so bright that they seemed to glow softly against the white. Various pots that littered in front of the house were overflowing with varying flowers all of which were either red or green. Amidst the sea of blossoms stood Durie herself; arms crossed and a large smile on her beautiful face.

"I'm glad you didn't wait too long to take me up on my offer." Hermione whipped her head around quickly at Durie's words, checking to see if there was anyone behind her, certain there was no way that she could be seen under Harry's cloak.

"Come in, come in. No use dithering about in the cold. Also, I have it on good authority that you are late." Hermione was left with little choice but to follow, stepping over the threshold of Durie's home cautiously, only removing Harry's cloak when the door was shut behind her. Durie quickly relieved her of it, placing it on a low hanging branch that stretched from the tree that seemed to form the frame of the doorway.

"How did you…" Durie waved her hand quickly as if such a question were an annoying fly.

"Oh, such things don't work with me, just the way it is." Durie quickly gestured that Hermione should follow her up to the second floor, hopping up the stone steps so quickly that Hermione was certain that her feet could not have possibly touched the ground. Hermione, however, took her time, once again taking in the wonders of Durie's home, her curiosity over-riding any other thoughts, even those of Draco.

"Come, come my dear, time will only wait so long," Durie stated, clapping her hands together as she stopped before a white door, thick vines of the richest green created a border, blue lilies opening up with dusty plumes of pollen that hung golden and fragrant in the air, "you will need to go through this door, if I am correct. Home is it?" Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, much to Durie's delight.

"I thought…You said that you couldn't get involved with the magical world." Durie tipped her head warmly, reaching out to tap Hermione on the nose.

"Doors are doors, my dear. They will always lead to places whether I will it or not. And besides, what did you expect by coming here? I'm certain you did not come for tea."

"But how do you know about-about everything else." Durie laughed heartily.

"You are both very interesting. Young and new but old and ancient. My knowing things and helping a fraction, well, that's hardly here nor there to the wizarding community. Besides, what's a little mischief to put some life into these old bones?"

Durie tapped her arms and Hermione had to stop herself from scoffing, Durie looked anything but old, her skin lacking in any sort of imperfection or blemish. Durie had the look of something that had been dreamed into existence, too perfect to ever really be of the world. Hermione opened her mouth to voice the mass of questions that crowded her mind, but Durie tutted, shaking her head. Gently she grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and steered her towards the door.

"There is always time for questions, but not now. When you want to return, knock three times and think of me" Before Hermione had time to object the door was opened and she stumbled out into deep snow, the large clock face on the tower of the church telling her that Durie had been right, she was late. She and Draco had arranged to meet for eight and it was already half past. Crunching through the snow she glanced around for the blonde Slytherin, circling round to the other side of the church before his voice emanated from the darkness, making her jump.

"You're late, Granger."

"Fashionably so." Hermione sniffed, lifting her head as Draco stepped out of the shadows. He looked good, clad all in black, right down to his scarf and woollen hat.

"Perhaps you could explain that to rather important parts of me that have emigrated to my chest cavity."

"That seems like an exaggeration." Hermione sniffed as he stepped towards her, hunching his shoulders against the chill.

"I wish it were." He whined, sticking out his bottom lip for added effect. Hermione rolled her eyes but found herself grinning up at him. It felt good seeing him again, all her previous worries seeming to melt away, lost somewhere in the back of her mind.

"Loving the hat, Granger." Draco murmured, reaching up to squeeze the woollen bobble that sat atop her head. It had been a gift from Mrs Weasley, and, though the orange and red of it made her head a tiny beacon, she had to admit that it was incredibly warm and cosy to wear.

"Yes well, comfort over fashion." Trying to ignore the way he smiled at her.

"No, it suits you, Granger." She wasn't sure whether it was a genuine or back-handed compliment, but her heart raced at it none the less, her eyes flickering to his pale lips. She realised what she was doing with horror and instantly looked away, digging the toe of her shoe into a snow drift that was almost completely covering the front of an old gravestone.

"Yes well, we better get going," Hermione commented, it was quite a distance to Masarvas Manor, although Draco had assured her that such a distance while flying was hardly anything, she wasn't convinced, especially considering the fact that she was not at all sure she'd be able to get on the broomstick let alone fly particularly fast.

Draco made short work of jumping onto his broomstick, shifting forward on the handle to make space for her behind him. Once he'd made himself comfortable he looked up at Hermione expectantly, slightly confused as to why she hadn't already hopped on board. He bit back a laugh when he noticed her suspicious gaze roving over both him and the broomstick, her whole body seeming to draw away from it.

Hermione had never been good at flying, not since her rather drastic and unfortunate experiences with it in first year, since then she had done everything within her power to keep herself out of the air and on solid ground. Of course, she had kept this little of nugget of information from Malfoy, fearing that he would laugh at her or use it against her, so when their plans had strayed in the direction of flying to Masarvas Manor, she had simply nodded mutely and pushed back the fear with the assertion that she would effectively deal with the issue when it was time. Now the time had arrived, and she still did not feel like dealing with the issue. It was the only way to get to the Manor safely and without anyone tracing their movements, but Hermione found herself mulling over whether any of that really mattered.

"Don't tell me you don't like flying?" Draco asked, eyes widening as he shook his head in disbelief.

"If I was meant to fly, I'd have been born with wings." Hermione pointed out, adjusting the strap of her bag, simply for something to do with her hands.

"Or the ability to use magic." Draco countered, and Hermione quickly shut her mouth, unable to think of an apt rebuttal to such a valid argument.

"I just…I've never really seen the appeal." Drago laughed, kicking off gently and flying gracefully towards her, the broomstick hovering mere inches off the ground, his toes brushing the surface of the snow leaving twin trails behind him.

"You just haven't been doing it right, or with the right person." Hermione couldn't help but laugh as he wiggled his eyebrows, some of the knotted fear in her stomach unravelling.

"I don't know."

"Come on, Granger, trust me."

"I thought you said trusting you was a bad idea?"

"Not with flying. I'm pretty much a pro." Hermione considered his statement and had to concede that he was telling the truth. He had always seemed to be exceptionally skilled at flying, right from first year, surpassed it seemed only by Harry. She went to step forward but hesitated.

"What if I fall off the back?" Draco considered this for a moment before shuffling back down the broomstick, creating ample space in front of him.

Hermione took a deep breath, she had faced worse things than flying in her time and there was no way she was going to let it stand in the way of her discovering new things about Mina and Edward. She lifted her leg over the broomstick, her heart hammering when Draco's hand held her hip, steadying her as she made herself comfortable in front of him. She had to bite back a gasp when he shifted forwards, his legs pressed against her, his chest flush against her back, arms wrapping around her to grip the broomstick in front of her. His chin rested on her shoulders as he gently spoke in her ear.

"You won't fall like this, see? No matter what happens, I've got you." Hermione tried her very best not to shiver as his breath ghosted her ear, nodding that she understood. She could feel his heart thumping against her back, just as erratically as hers and she took comfort in it, knowing that his fear had nothing to do with flying. "You ready." Hermione was nowhere near ready and she knew she never would be, but she forced herself to nod, even as she scrunched her toes, hoping that they might act as some sort of anchor to the earth, stopping them from taking off. It didn't work, however, and they rose easily, the church below them rapidly becoming a speck amidst the white.

Hermione closed her eyes, drawing back as far as she could from the open air that seemed to race towards her. Draco's chest rumbled as he chuckled at her, shaking his head.

"This is precious." Hermione pursed her lips, refusing to open her eyes at his words, even though her stomach tightened as his lips gently brushed the shell of her ear.

"I don't see what is so funny." Hermione bit out.

"Really? Brave Gryffindor petrified of flight."

"It's not the flying that scares me, more like the falling." Draco's arms unconsciously tightened around her, actually managing to make her feel a little safe in spite of the fact that only a measly broom handle sat between her and certain death.

"I won't let you fall, you know?"

"Won't you?" Hermione challenged, and Draco once again laughed at her.

"No, I won't." They were silent for a few moments, the wind whistling past them, cold and littered with small flakes hinting at another shower of snowfall yet to come. Hermione hoped that it would hold off at least until they reached the Manor, being caught in a blizzard while flying seemed like the least favourable thing for her to do on Christmas Eve.

"You know there's a beauty to flying." Draco murmured nonchalantly in her ear.

"And what would that be?" Hermione answered, sceptically.

"The sights, the air, the freedom of it all."

"I beg to differ." Hermione had still yet to open her eyes, so sights were definitely not something she could take in, let alone begin to enjoy, the air was cold and biting at her cheeks and as for freedom, she got that feeling a hundred-fold when sat in the warmth of a library, her mind able to go anywhere, research and learn anything.

"You do, do you?" Hermione nodded quickly, scared that too much movement would send them off balance and hurtling towards the towns that lay below.

Hermione was so busy keeping her eyes clenched shut and her mind happily somewhere else, that she failed to noticed Draco taking one hand off the broomstick, only becoming aware of it when it pressed against her stomach. She sucked in a breath, her eyes snapping open at the feeling of magic sinking through the layers she wore and warming her skin. He anchored her against himself, holding her there as he spoke.

"Hold on tight, Granger."

"What do you mean hold on tigh…" Hermione's words were ripped from her as Draco aimed the broomstick upwards, letting the broom shoot forwards at such an impressive speed that Hermione found it difficult to draw breath into her lungs. She gripped the handle so hard that she was sure there would be wood beneath her fingernails, in spite of the thick gloves she wore. She scrunched eyes shut again, focusing on Draco's hand that was still holding her tightly. He wouldn't let her fall, he wouldn't hurt her. All her thoughts seemed somewhat tenuous when he was the reason they were hurting through the air at such a needless speed.

Suddenly they levelled out, the broom slowing to a much more leisurely pace. Draco's head was on her shoulder again, his laughter resonating throughout her when he noticed that her eyes were closed.

"Granger." He whispered, and Hermione shook her head.

"I'm not talking to you."

"Fine but, you're going to want to see this."

Hermione didn't really want to listen to him, but the way he said it made her almost believe that it wasn't one of his jokes, but something rather more serious that he wanted to share with her. She opened her eyes and immediately gasped, hand covering her mouth before she could even think about the fact that only one hand now gripped the handle. They'd completely moved through the thick clouds and they lay like a carpet beneath them, tiny gaps the only hint that there was anything below. Above her, the night sky was inky black, covered with stars that felt close enough to touch, but she knew they were millions of miles away.

"Stars above and below," Draco mumbled to himself and Hermione realised that he was right, as she noticed that the towns below, peeking through the gaps, were forming little constellations of their own.

"It's beautiful."

"Told you it wasn't that bad."

"Yes, well, you could have gone about it a bit better."

"And spoil the surprise?" Hermione shook her head, suppressing a smile.

"I don't think anything could have spoilt this." It wasn't very often that Hermione thought about the vastness of everything, but there floating high up with Draco she felt incredibly small, like her actions, though seemingly grand to her, actually had very little consequence. She supposed it was that overwhelming feeling that made her sink back into him with a sigh, placing her gloved hand over his, letting their fingers lace. Whatever Draco thought he didn't protest, just tightened his grip and let his hand stay beneath hers, his nose slightly buried in the loose curls that sprang from underneath her hat.

If there was ever a moment that Hermione became certain that Draco spending time with her had nothing to do with Voldemort, that was it and it comforted her all the way to Masarvas Manor.


	70. Window to the Past

Draco's heart was hammering when they eventually landed in the forest on the outskirts of the Manor, the whole flight having been a sweet kind or torture that he hadn't entirely hated. She'd settled back into him and pretty much held his hand the whole way there, a glorious patch of pale skin just visible beneath her scarf, that he had to fight not to bury his nose into. Her hair, as it always seemed to, smelt like strawberries and the heady mix of cool crisp air and the sweetness of her curls made him feel like he could have achieved flight without the aid of his broom.

Hermione quickly hopped off the front of the broom, stumbling in the snow, her arms flailing comically till Draco jumped off after her and managed to steady her before she fell over completely. He couldn't help but grin down at her rosy cheeks; how someone so intelligent and feisty could be so adorable was beyond him. Hermione, however, refused to meet his gaze adjusting her coat and pulling two strange items out of her bag. They looked like two wands, of a type and make that he had never come across before; both were bright green with what seemed to be strange mirrors at the one end. She handed one to Draco and he tapped the end, noticing that there was a small piece of glass between his finger and the mirrors.

"What is it?" Draco asked, turning it this way and that in his hands, his thumb brushing over a large black spot that felt rubbery to touch.

"It's a torch."

"A what?" Draco was surprised, wondering where exactly the flames were going to come out of.

"A torch, you press this button here and – see it lights your way." Draco jumped as a great beam of light came out of the end of Hermione's muggle wand.

"Mine does that?" Hermione nodded, quickly turning on his for him, which he immediately turned towards his eyes to inspect where exactly the beam was originating from.

"Ow, geez, my retinas."

"Yes well, don't turn it towards your face."

"Point taken." He pointed the light back towards the ground sheepishly, holding the torch like it was going to explode in his hands. "Why can't I just use my wand? Lumos is really easy to cast, you know, Granger."

"I don't want you using magic any more than you have to."

"No one's going to know." He smirked, watching her bristle at his statement.

"I'll know, besides, what if the whole thing with your ancestor's wand is a fluke and – and I don't know next time you'll be caught."

"That's a heck of a lot of flukes, Granger." He winced when Hermione stopped, whirling round to him, her face a mask of anger and worry.

"Exactly how many times have you used it outside of school?"

"I'm going to go with not many?"

"Urgh, your blatant disregard for rules makes me wonder why I can even stand your company. They are there for a reason you know, to keep us safe and protected. What if you'd attempted a spell that you couldn't handle?"

"You're so optimistic, Granger. A little ray of sunshine on proceedings." He muttered sarcastically, shaking his head in amusement. He wondered how he could have ever found this side of her annoying, it was almost (he couldn't believe he was thinking it) endearing.

"I just prepare for all possibilities, that's all. And things going wrong with magic is a tremendous possibility."

"And yet here you are." Hermione's back straightened at his words.

"That's different."

"Is it now?"

"Yes."

"And I suppose all the times you've broken the rules with Potty and Weasel, those are different too." Hermione huffed but didn't give him an answer, stomping off ahead of him – much to his amusement.

When they eventually made it out of the dense forest it seemed as though Hermione had forgotten their little argument, grasping Draco's sleeve as she stared open-mouthed towards the Manor. Its ruins loomed over them, a single tower remaining from the four it had once possessed, pointing crookedly towards the clouds as though it were the finger of an old aged giant. The manor was a regular tourist attraction for most witches and wizards and as such he had visited it quite a number of times in his childhood. In the past, it had always seemed such a wondrous place, plenty of small little hideaways that he could get lost in and explore. That those happy memories took place somewhere that housed such a dark past had never seemed possible. Now though he could imagine it. the whole place felt and looked so different, its broken pieces were no longer able to keep its secrets hidden away, all the atrocities that had taken place within its walls were laid bare and it looked all the darker and more menacing for it.

"It looks smaller somehow," Hermione breathed sadly. Though she had no particular love for the Manor there had been happiness in Mina's memories, a glimmer of a childhood that spoke of love and laughter and of the Manor being a beautiful safe place. Now all she saw were dilapidated ruins, walls that have fallen in on themselves no longer able to bear the weight of age that pressed down on them. It made Hermione angrier at Arden for infecting the place as he did, inviting something so insidious to pollute everything the Manor had been. She wondered if maybe the Manor could have remained in all its former glory if Arden had chosen a different path.

"Not quite the grand Manor it was back in the day?" Draco queried, as he shone his torch on a sign standing outside the ruins, bosting a rich history within, right down to the reasons why such a grand place stood as it did.

"No where near." Hermione shook her head as Draco brushed some flakes from the sign, leaning forward to read, his breath curling lazily in the light.

"It says that Arden, our dear friend, left the ruin because, blah de blah de blah, lots of history, yada yada yada, something about a fresh start."

"So, guilt then."

"I would seem so. A bit of lightly veiled covering of his cowardly arse." Draco said straightening, unable to quite fully squash the anger he felt at the people who'd written the sign. They'd painted Arden as some sort of benevolent spirit who could no longer live with the memories of his fallen family, a far cry from the conniving coward the wizard had actually been.

"He seemed like the type." Hermione commented, and Draco nodded. He hadn't turned up in many of Edwards memories but when he had Draco had spotted the mannerisms of his cowardice a mile off. Arden moved as though he were a puppet, dragged by some invisible strings. He knew the look well, seeing it as he often did in his father and – rather sickeningly – when he'd seen it in himself.

"We should get moving." He muttered, his fingers brushing Hermione's as he stepped past. All day Daphne's words had been ringing in his head, over and over till they had all but driven him mad. What kind of Slytherin was he that he didn't go for what he wanted? What kind of person was he to let something as spectacularly fantastic as Granger slip by without so much as a taste? Another thought struck him as he glanced back to see if she was following, whenever he'd avoided her, tried to keep away, he'd looked in the mirror and seen his father looking back at him - all limp-limbed and following orders - when he was with her he felt different, like something better, something far more tangible. He wondered that maybe if he was that person, it wouldn't matter who they were, because he would have the guts to make it alright.

Finding their way into the Manor was easy as it was practically an open wound, bleeding all it was out on t the ground, drifts of snow lining the walls within that were still partially covered by a decaying roof. In the entrance the whole of the second floor had disappeared, giving a clear view up right to the night sky. Magical steps had been taken to slow degradation, so as ruins went, it looked pretty good, but it was nothing close to its former glory. Inside was a shell of emptiness, all its rich and luscious furnishings gone, no doubt taken by opportunists looking to make a bit of money from such 'important history'. Arden – The Sanctuary of the Witch and Wizard had been newly painted above the door and it made Hermione a little sick. If only they knew what they had named the Manor after, if only they knew what had really happened.

"You know," Hermione commented, running her hand over a plaque that commemorated Arden Masarvas as a profoundly wise wizard; strong and kind, "all this makes me wonder why he was so hard to find in the Hogwarts library. You think there'd be more about him."

"He was a professor there, maybe he had a hand in relieving them of some of the books. You never know, he might have felt bad for all the worship and adoration." Hermione guessed he had a point, looking at the image of the old wizard adjusting his robes on the plaque, she thought she detected a tiredness that went well beyond his age, perhaps he did feel guilty, perhaps he did want to take it all back.

"When I learnt I was a witch I – I found so many things that non-magic users got wrong; Santa, ghosts, most of science and – and I realised that I'd been wrong too. I learnt everything I could about magic; its history, its beginning, how it came to be what it is today, I learnt potions, spells…and now? It feels like it's all wrong." Hermione was shocked when she found her voice breaking a little, a lump of sadness getting stuck in the back of her throat. Draco gently wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him and resting his head on top of hers.

"Can't always be right, Granger," He mused trying to squash how wonderful it felt to have her tucked into his side.

"I know, it's just…so many things, so many people just…gone." She looked up at him sadly, letting out a huge sigh before moving on, her step hesitant enough to make him hope she did not want to step out of his embrace.

They carried on down the corridor, their beams crisscrossing in front of them, sometimes hovering over various carvings and the names and dates of some wizards that had seen fit to leave their mark for eternity. Hermione shook her head with a chuckle as she leant forward and read of Maisy's undying love for Jack.

"You know in some ways, magic users aren't that different from…muggles." She always struggled over the word, seeing very little difference between herself and the rest of the population.

"You think?" Draco asked curiously, stopping down to read the little messages with her.

"Yep, they love to graffiti too, will stamp their name on literally everything."

"Who'd have thought. Will have to tell my dad that little snippet of information, sure he'll be thrilled." Draco muttered drily, making Hermione giggle a little. Here in the darkness all their differences seemed insignificant, they were alone on an adventure, sharing in discoveries and nothing else seemed to matter beyond that. Hermione moved her beam a light the end of the corridor, faltering when it illuminated briefly, something that she did not recognise ever having been in any of Mina's memories she'd seen so far. A statue of knight stood proudly in a large alcove, the handle of its sword grasped in both its hands, blade facing down towards the floor.

"I don't remember this," Hermione breathed, running her fingers against the stone and drawing back quickly, looking at the tips of her fingers in shock.

"It's warm.' She touched the stone again, fingers running down the length of the blade, shaking her head.

"There's a load of them," Draco pointed out, stepping back to fully take in the knights that lined the corridor, each tucked away in their own alcove, each wielding different weaponry.

"Where have they come from?" Hermione queried, and Draco shrugged, sucking his teeth as he peered at the helmet of one, great horns rising out the top of it.

"Not very welcoming, are they?" Draco commented, shivering at the chill that ran down the length of his spine. Hermione couldn't help but agree with him, there was something incredibly unnerving about them, all lined up and apparently frozen in their readiness for battle. And statues were not supposed to be warm, especially not on a cold winter night.

As they moved deeper into the Manor it seemed to be in a much better state of repair, the floor above only having one or two holes in it, where small flakes drifted down as a draft moaned its way through the various gaps and crevices.

"I can't believe magic keeps this all together, I mean I can it's just...it's amazing." Hermione mused, taking in the site of a rather precarious looking pillar, tilting slightly, a large crack running down its length. She had seen plenty buildings in similar states of disrepair near her home, usually with huge 'keep out' signs adorning large fences that ran all the way around them, but none of them had been as old as the Manor.

They came to a large staircase that spiralled up to the second floor and third floor, the third being where Arden's father's study lay. Hermione tried to imagine the walls bedecked with the large tapestries from Mina's memories, with paintings of old wizards who'd once walked the halls gazing down at them wisely.

Draco, who'd already made it halfway up, paused to look back at her, his brow furrowing with worry.

"You okay, Granger?" He stepped back down to her, hesitantly reaching out to wrap his hand around the top of her arm gently.

"Yeah, I just…it looks so different…" Draco nodded glancing around himself.

"I bet you're the only one who knows how it really looked, what it was really like." Hermione stared up at Draco with wonder, not quite able to fathom how he, of all people, could make her feel so special with just a few words. Draco noticed her gaze and glanced down at her.

"What?"

"You're just…you're never what I expect." Hermione said softly, the tips of her fingers brushing the buttons of his coat as she lay her palm on his chest, checking that he was real. Draco stopped breathing, letting his hand slip down her arm till it gently cupped her elbow. After a brief moment of considering whether it was a good idea, he decided to stop listening to reason and tugged her closer. As she moved forward he slipped his arm around her waist, stepping closer to her and then instantly jumping back in fright as a shrill voice rang out.

" _The large spiral staircase is a staple of the Manor…"_

"Oh, sweet magical ways of Merlin, I forgot about these things." Draco knelt down, eyeing up the small smiling face of an old witch appearing to shimmer on the surface of the steps.

" _Lords and Ladies were frequent visitors of this grand place and would have often used this stairway to…"_

"Apparently information is much more interesting when you nearly die of fright."

"It does seem like a weird place to put them." Hermione mused, kneeling down herself to inspect the Old Witch's face. She was a very proud looking woman with a huge hooked nose and a constant smirk upon her thin lips as she retold countless tales of the Manor that Hermione knew were all completely fabricated.

"It's…argh what's her name now? She has her knobbly fingers in all the historical monument pies. Likes the sound of her own voice too." Hermione didn't doubt it, considering the witch was still merrily waxing lyrical about the staircase and all those that could have possibly walked up and down it.

"Mural, that's it. She comes to visit my mom every now and again. Wouldn't surprise me if she was dead set against giving people the choice to learn things. This way she can sneak up on you."

"How do you get it to stop?" Hermione winced as the witch took a deep breath and flew the explanation of how such a rare type of stone happened to end up at the manor.

"If it's Mural, I imagine you don't, just watch your step from now on."

They made there way carefully up the winding staircase, Hermione's thoughts straying to what would have happened if Mural and her whiny voice and completely misguided information hadn't interrupted. Draco had pulled her forward, his grey eyes serious and so dark that thinking of them made her shiver a little in anticipation. She glanced at his back wondering if he were thinking the same, quickly scolding herself. He had a girlfriend and besides, they were seeking out the solitude of the Manor for any such things, they were looking for information and she resolved to focus on that and that alone. They eventually made it to the third floor, the staircase opening out onto yet another corridor that Hermione knew all too well, a shudder of disgust shaking her whole body.

To the right was the study, it would be the last door at the end, a large oaken door with the depictions of a forest carved into the wood, but to the left? If she followed the corridor down she would eventually come upon the tower, the only tower that remained standing and the only one that Hermione feared. Ghosts whispered the walls and haunted Hermione's mind alike as if they lived both in the Manor and within her. She could have imagined it, but she could have sworn that the darkness was thicker that way, heavy and oppressive, so black that even the torch seemed to be dimmed by it.

"The tower…" Hermione started, unable to finish her sentence, but Draco followed her gaze and from his grim look he guessed what she meant.

"Do you want to?" He asked, removing his hat and tucking it into his coat pocket. Hermione shook her head quickly, she was curious, of course, she was curious, but she had seen the horrors of the tower first hand and to all intents and purposes did not want to relive it. The fact that it still stood after so much else had crumbled worried her though, as if the evil that spawned Mina's terrible memories were still at work, holding it together.

"So, the study then?"

"Yes, yes, it's this way." Hermione mumbled, pointedly turning her back on the tower as though not seeing it would wipe all that had happened from her mind, from history itself.

The study was the only room that seemed to have the skeletal remains of furniture littering its floor, bits of rotten wood were strewn everywhere in forlorn splinters. Hermione thought she could work out the outline of the portrait that had once hung above the safe - the portrait of Arden's father - but she guessed that was impossible, just her mind supplying what she'd expected to see. So much time had passed and while some things would have remained, a simple discolouration of stone could not have survived the centuries.

"I thought it'd be bigger." Draco scoffed, turning in the centre of the room, taking in the drab and underwhelming scenery with a look of disdain.

"Hmmm." Hermione hummed in agreement. Everything about the place seemed to have shrunk. When she had witnessed Sornious and Arden within the study it had felt cavernous, full of dark corners where the worst of shadows could hide away. Looking at it now though, it felt as though she were in the wrong place.

"it's so strange. It feels-it feels the same but different."

"Wow making all the sense, Granger," Draco commented drily, and Hermione scowled at him, wondering what reaction she'd really expected of him.

"Forget it." They were silent for a moment before Draco spoke again.

"I get it. You have and haven't been here before. It's going to feel strange." Hermione thought of when they'd found his ancestors wand and ring. Draco had seen snippets of the memory, witnessing the battle at Hogwarts and Edward secreting his ancestors' belongings away, she guessed Hogwarts must have felt different for him after too.

"So, where's this safe then?" Draco asked, examining the walls and coming up blank.

Hermione moved towards the end of the room, placing her palm against the wall and finding that it was, again, warm, just like the statues.

"Here."

Draco nodded, quickly undoing his coat and drawing his ancestor's wand out of his inside pocket, moving to stand beside her.

"And I say?"

"Shani a'din."

"Right." Draco took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing on his magic. Every time became easier and his magic brighter.

"Shani a'din." He guessed it had worked as Hermione let out a gasp, reaching to grasp his arm and, sure enough, when he opened his eyes, a door had appeared. For while they just stared at it, the reality of being the first ones to see both the door, let alone enter it, in so many years was quite mind-blowing.

"I can't believe this is real." Hermione breathed, wondering – as she quite often did – whether she would suddenly start away in her bed and find that the world of magic had been on long, fairly elaborate, dream.

"Well, believe it, Granger." He grinned opening the door to reveal a brightly lit room, much larger than anything Draco had imagined. It was full to the brim, everywhere they turned there was something new and curious to investigate.

"Well, at least we know why he could get away with such a small study." Draco quipped, peering at a pile of scrolls and seeming to get lots in their contents.

"There's…there's so much here."

Hermione was finding it difficult to process it all; scrolls, books, maps, potions that lined the large dusty shelf that loomed over a workbench housing a dusty cauldron and there were various instruments she guessed were for magical use, the likes of which she had never seen before. Hermione felt a rush of panic when she realised how much there was to know and to find out and how little time they had.

"Granger look at this." Hermione stepped over to Draco, who moved to the side, pointing down at the scroll he'd been reading. Obliviate was scrawled across the top in fancy letters and as Hermione read her eyes widened.

"It seems obliviate was a much bigger deal back then."

Hermione spluttered, feeling as though Draco's words were one giant understatement. According to the scroll, it seemed as though the spell was regarded with fear and respect, warning upon warning littering the page.

"One should cast with care lest lives be lost, persons obliterated, worlds torn asunder."

"Mightily dramatic, aren't they?" Draco mused.

"When Obliviating memories of a person or persons be aware, magic will remove them from mind and all other mind, so that their very existence be called into question. Restraint then when casting. Only the most able wizard may attempt."

"Well, that's dodgy."

"I suppose old magic is linked to everything so, I guess, could affect everything."

"Look here, it says it can affect other powerful magic, forcing it to act unnaturally. A bit like when you got kicked out of the Sensieve. Maybe that whole thing is to do with this." Draco reiterated his point, jabbing his finger on the pile of scrolls.

Hermione considered it, though it had only happened a couple of times it did play on her mind. The obliviate spell seemed like a pretty good explanation, but then there was the issue of what Mina would want to forget. She had seen so many terrible things, Hermione couldn't imagine what would be more terrible that would lead her to wipe her memory.

"I don't know, but I suppose…well, it's something to think about." She shuffled through the rest of the scrolls as Draco wandered away, perusing the various nik-naks. He paused at a large cabinet decorated with woodland animals, a large stag in the centre the gold paint of its antlers curling and peeling away from the wood. He gave both handles a tug and stepped back quickly as a Pensieve floated towards him, the cabinet behind it containing rows and rows of tiny bottles, with names scrawled in blurred ink across their tiny labels.

"Er, Granger?"

"Hmmm?"

"I think I've found something." He commented as he retrieved a wand that was nestled at the back of the cupboard, bottles clinking as he gently knocked them. She moved closer to him slowly, as if afraid that it was all some mirage and any sudden movement would disturb the air and make it ripple out of existence.

"Is that?"

"From the way you described it," he moved the wand about in his hand, inspecting it closely, "I think so." He held it out to her and she took it reverently with both hands. It was exactly as she had seen it; the blossoms, the tree. Hermione sucked in a shaky breath knowing that Mina had one held the wand, that her hand was touching the very same item that had been linked to Mina by blood. Mina had never felt closer or more real than she did at that moment. Hermione gripped it as Mina would have done before she cast a spell, marvelling as she felt the familiar grooves pressing into her palm.

"I can't believe it's here."

"Arden must have kept it, you know- after…" It wasn't very often they spoke of the first memory they ever experienced and even now Draco found it difficult to voice it. It wasn't just that it had a been a dreadful experience and it had. It was also the fact that it was an end for two people that they had both grown incredibly close to. Thinking there was such an end to their tale was sickening, an injustice that was painful to even contemplate.

"He must have."

As Hermione continued inspecting the surface of Mina's wand, Draco began pulling out some of the small bottles reading the names and, finding he hardly recognised them, placed the bottles back in turn. He only paused when he noticed that one of the bottles held his family name.

"A. Malfoy."

"What?"

"It's what it says here." He turned the bottle to Hermione, "should we see what it has to offer?"

Hermione nodded quickly shuffling forward, looking down into the Pensieve as he topped the memory at last out of its confines.

Falling into the memory as herself felt strange, a part of her ready and waiting for the onslaught of emotions that never came. Instead, the memory materialised around her and she and Draco stood in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Hermione glanced up, a gasp leaving her when she noticed that the ceiling was normal, no sky to be seen only beams and stone. Voices rose to an astounding volume among the few wizards that had gathered and stopped abruptly when the dark-haired wizard – that Hermione recognised from the council – lifted one pale hand in the air.

"Fighting amongst ourselves will do little to help our predicament, we have decided upon a plan and we shall see it through."

"Such a spell is dangerous, potentially disastrous. How could we possibly make it work on such a grand scale? The slightest change, the smallest emotion could throw it all off." He was a small, round man with pinched features who shuffled, gesturing wildly and glancing at his companions for support.

"Phillipe is right, the spell is dangerous. There is a reason why it is hardly used."

"We have very little option Lady Knott, were your husband alive he would have felt the same, I am sure." Hermione glanced up at Draco at the sound of his friends' second name. The witch in question was thin and short, her features sharp and her hair scraped back off her face. Lady Knott began to shake with rage, pressing her lips together in a thin line.

"You dare to speak of my husband as though you know his heart."

"You would suggest that his heart would not want what is best for our people." Lady Knott turned her head away from the dark wizard sharply crossing her arms and refusing to speak any more.

"The point still stands that this is not done, the spell itself was an accident in its conception, should we really pin our future, the future of our people on an _accident._ "

"That is a myth Slughorn and you know it." A tall man with a long nose glanced at Phillipe in a rather bored manner and Hermione gasped.

"Slughorn?" She whispered, turning to stare open-mouthed at Draco who met her shocked expression with his own.

"A myth? A myth?" Phillipe Slughorn spluttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, a myth, the writings of obliviate are sketchy at best. As one would expect when a wizard is researching a memory spell. One can hardly be expected to keep detailed notes when one cannot remember their own name." The tall man flicked his long dark hair over his shoulder and sniffed, smirking at Slughorn who was shaking with barely concealed rage.

"I have done research!"

"Perhaps you should stick to your gardening." A handsome man cut in, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

Hermione and Draco had been so caught up with the argument that they had not noticed the blonde witch and wizard that had been stood behind them the whole time. When one of them spoke they both whirled around, separating quickly and holding their breath as the two walked between them

The one man was proud, his shoulders back and chest puffed forward as he supported the witch at his side, who was hunched over and hobbling painfully. Hermione gasped, once again grabbing Draco's arm for support when she noticed that the witch was, in fact, Lady Greengrass, her light hair streaked with grey, her pale skin littered with silvery scars.

"What have they done to her?" Hermione breathed, her heart aching at the agony she must have faced, the pain and fear she must have been subjected to.

"Enough." Lady Greengrass spoke, her voice ringing with authority in spite of her hunched and weak appearance. "We argue pathetically even as our enemy closes in."

"Arden has been defeated, his followers scattered to the wind, what immediate threat could we realistically face."

"Castien you are young and immature. What you know of the world you have learnt through books and little else. Arden has fallen, but to whom do you think he fell." The blonde-haired wizard holding Lady Greengrass up spoke quickly and scathingly, in an extremely Malfoy way, so much so that Hermione was left in no doubt that it was Draco's ancestor. Hermione felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of a Malfoy being with a Greengrass even in the past, a part of her not wanting to look at them. Even as she felt sorry for Lady Greengrass she despised her a little.

Castien – the tall wizard with the long nose – seemed to shrink under the wizard's authority, shutting his mouth quickly and examining the floor.

"We must cast this spell and we must do it now, let us fall into hiding, into our own world, into safety." The dark-haired wizard nodded at Lady Greengrass, turning to address the other witches and wizards in turn.

"There is one other order of business that we have to deal with." He lifted one arm and gestured at the man waiting at the door, who bowed and opened it quickly. A young man walked in, two axes strapped to his back, hoisting a man in purple robes before him with ease.

"Granger, that's Taigen."

"What?" Hermione whirled round to Draco who had not taken his eyes off the door.

"The man holding, Arden, it's Taigen."

Hermione had not expected Taigen to look the way he did; he had eyes of steel, his mouth pressed in a grim line and a scar running the length of his jaw and stopping just beneath his chin.

"He looks different," Draco commented as Taigen pushed Arden towards the other wizards. The man that held onto Arden was so different from the boy that had shook before Bear, who followed along with Rhylan and Edward with wide-eyed wonder. Draco briefly wondered what had happened to the rest of them, he knew of Edwards fate but nothing of what became of Rhylan and Bear.

"What's he doing here?" Hermione breathed, and Draco shook his head, too shocked to answer Hermione's question sarcastically.

"Merlin know's."

"Arden, you will explain to the council what it is you have proposed."

"You would take advice from him?" Lady Greengrass spat, pointing her shaking finger at the crumpled wizard on the floor.

"He would seek to atone for all that he had done." The dark-haired wizard spoke grimly, eyeing Arden with mistrust.

"His death would be all that could atone for the things that he has done."

"There will be no more death, Lady Greengrass. I will have no more of our people needlessly slaughtered. There has been too much bloodshed. We have fought among ourselves for too long."

"And who's fault is that?" Lady Greengrass pointed out, moving from Malfoy's grasp and shuffling forward, "you do not know what he has done, you do not know what I have seen."

"We have all faced terrible things, My Lady. It is time to put that all behind us."

Lady Greengrass lifted her chin with pride, tears glimmering in her eyes.

"You forget what I have been through for everyone here."

"No one could forget My Lady, no one. But we must move on, we must. For the sake of our people." Lady Greengrass was silent, her whole bent form shaking, Hermione could not guess whether it was from rage or defeat. The dark-haired wizard turned, once again looking down at the pitiful mess of Arden, his gaze hardening.

"You will tell us what it is you propose." Arden nodded, not lifting his gaze from the floor, taking a scroll from his robe and opening it out.

"Our magic, it has no control, no end. It is in everything and we are linked to it and each other through it. As such, terrible magic, insidious and evil has grown and manifested."

"And you have sanctioned it, allowing it space and freedom," Lady Greengrass reminded him bitterly. Arden lowered his head even further at her words.

"I cannot deny my role in such things, but I would seek to aid going forward. And to go forward our magic needs to change."

Hermione couldn't help the anger bubbling in her stomach at Arden's words, everything that had happened, everything he spoke of was his doing and he was acting as though it wasn't.

"Why are they letting this happen?" Hermione spat, stepping forward to gauge the reactions of the other wizards in the room. They all seemed uncomfortable with Lady Greengrass' words but none of them said anything, deciding to look anywhere but at her.

"How can they just…" Draco stepped forward taking her hand and drawing her back to him.

"I know, Granger, but there's nothing we can do." Hermione let out a breath, wanting to argue with him but she couldn't, he was right. Everything they saw had already been and gone and they were living in the consequences of those actions.

"In order to control magic, I propose a way that is not linked by blood."

"How is that even possible?" Castien asked.

"The blood is replaced with particular ingredients, unique to each witch and wizard. It will make the wand powerful but separate from the full potential power. It will be safer and easier to control.

"How do we know this could even work, obliviate will be hard enough to perform, but what about after? How will we make this work, how will we remember it?" Slughorn countered, peering down at the paper in Arden's hand.

"Arden will remember." The dark-haired wizard spoke quietly, refusing to look at his fellow council member as they froze. There was a moment of silence before their protestations rose, voices clamouring over one another to be heard, each of them shouting their disagreement and concern.

"ENOUGH." The dark-haired wizard raised his hands and they all fell silent, begrudgingly relenting to his authority.

"While I am not completely against a control of magic, on the contrary, it is much needed, but leaving behind the very wizard that rose against his own kind, that betrayed them, performed all manner of magical experiments on them? You have made some grand decisions in your time, your majesty, but this…I feel that you have not properly considered the implications of leaving him with such knowledge." Everyone nodded at the handsome wizards' words, turning to look at their leader expectantly.

"Dorian, you raise a valid and careful argument. But I assure you that I have thought this through. I have obsessed over this for as long as I have been able, and I can see no other way."

"Perhaps a more trusted advocate could keep all their memories."

"None but Arden shall keep his memories." Their leader stated, crossing his arms, "and if you will allow me, I will explain why it must be so."

There was a general muttering amongst the magic users gathered, but eventually, they fell silent, turning their attention to their leader. He nodded once, placing his arms behind his back and turning to walk up the steps to the platform where all the teachers usually sat, his robes sweeping the space where the table would have been.

"My good friends now is the time that we put aside all that made us different and focus on what we are together. We are powerful and strong, but we are hurt and if we are not careful we could be hurt again." There were many scoffs that accompanied this line, especially from Hermione. While she completely agreed with the Wizards going into hiding, she wondered how 'His Majesty' could have so easily decided to leave Arden with his memories. What purpose could such a decision possibly serve than give him the opportunity to hurt them all, again?

"When we have forgotten there will be much planning, much organising and," he turned to his audience, "much to hide." There was a collective intake of breath as they all suddenly realised.

"Their hatred," Draco commented, gazing at each of the robed figures in turn, "it clouded their judgement." Hermione looked up at him and then followed his gaze as many of the people gathered had the common decency to look slightly ashamed at their oversight. Hermione realised with shock that she had allowed the same thing to get in the way of such a logical explanation. His family were famous for it, hiding things was what they did best and, she realised, he had done it spectacularly.

"Arden shall clear up what we have left, Taigen will help." The young man nodded his head once, the dark look on his face never leaving. "We will create a guard against unlawful magic use, an armour that will cloak our world and keep it safe. When this is done," he reached into his robe and took out his wand gazing down at it sadly, "we will cast obliviate and begin our lives anew."

"But can the boy really be trusted, he is a muggle, what is to stop him from reporting back to his people," Slughorn complained, shrinking back when Taigen turned his gaze to him.

"Taigen has protected our kind many times and he has offered to do so again. Such views should be put aside, I would not have them infect our new beginning." Slughorn nodded solemnly, adjusting his robes uncomfortably.

Draco's ancestor turned to Lady Greengrass, familiar grey eyes filled with worry,

"I would recommend you do not cast obliviate." He whispered, and both Draco and Hermione shifted closer to listen.

"I am one of the council, one of the few that remain from the original six. I will do my duty."

"Your hatred, if unchecked could infect us all. We cannot create a new world with such malice among us." Lady Greengrass eyes lit with hatred, venom swimming in their depths.

"My hatred is my own and shall remain my own." Draco's ancestor shook his head sadly.

"I pray that you are right."

The memory faded, and they were one again stood next to the cabinet. Hermione looked up ad Draco with wonder and as one they reached for another bottle. They had time and she had to admit that they gained a lot more information than if they simply read all the scrolls that Arden had kept. This was the truth, all that had actually happened, a window right into the past.


	71. Muro a'din

Wow thanks so much, everyone for the reviews, they were awesome and mean a lot. Not entirely sure about this chapter but hope that you enjoy it :).

* * *

Draco brought the small vial close to his face, muttering under his breath for a few moments before shaking his head.

"No, no chance, don't have a clue who this is." Turning the label to Hermione so that she could see that the name had been smudged beyond recognition.

"Well, I suppose we don't know who most of these people are." She shrugged. They had seen quite a few of the memories in the cabinet, most of them mundane things that, while they were nice to see, did not give them any more information.

"Ahh well…here goes. Fingers crossed for another dragon riding memory." Hermione scowled at him, her stomach turning a little at the thought. A young witch, surname Surphan, had seen fit to secret away the wondrous memory of her riding a dragon and the experience had not been an enjoyable one. She secretly began hoping that whatever memory it was, her feet would be planted firmly on the ground.

The garden was a small square at the back of the hut packed full of brightly coloured flowers that seemed like tiny light sources of their own in the warmth of the summer day. The grass beneath Hermione's feet was a luscious green that Hermione knew had to have been soft. She felt a little bereft at the loss of all the memory had to offer; the touch, the taste, the endless thoughts that went along with it. A small girl sat cross-legged in the middle of yellow blossoms, her red hair getting tangled around the stems as she giggled happily to herself. Her mother sat not far away, her own hair like liquid fire cascading down her back, humming softly to herself as she pressed her wand gently against closed blooms, watching them open with a small smile on her face. Draco tipped his head to the side remembering his own mother in her own garden and how he used to marvel at the heady fragrance, his imagination running wild with adventure and mystery. While he did not know the emotions of either person, he could guess at the joy the little girl felt, the magic that surrounded her and he could see the crinkle of happiness and love in the corner of the mother's eyes, as she glanced towards her daughter.

"Fairnie, sweetheart, five more minutes." The child said little in reply to her mother, but her face screwed up with disgust at the thought of there being an end to her playtime. "I know, but we can't have you wasting away." The woman stood, brushing down the front of her dress and grinning at her daughter. Hermione was surprised by how young she was, she would have guessed about the same age as Mina, perhaps a little younger.

"Flower." The little girl pointed up at the blooms above her and her mother chuckled, nodding her head as she reached down to pick her up.

"Yes, flower. And Fairnie?" The little girl pointed at herself and at the flower beneath her.

"Yes, you're a flower too." The girl clapped happily, hugging her mother's neck as she moved to carry her inside. Pausing in horror as robed wizards filtered through the back door of her home, all bearing the insignia of the Order of Light. Arden was the last to step out, his head held high in pomposity, a smirk curling the one side of his lips that made Hermione's blood boil.

"What is the meaning of this?" The woman spoke quickly and harshly, turning her body slightly away from them so as to protect her child.

"You know why we are here."

"My husband is not home yet." Arden nodded once.

"Your husband is dead." The woman's body shook at the news as if she were just a second away from falling into despair. However, seeming to remember her company, she straightened her back, pressing her lips together in a thin line and raising her head as she clutched her child more fiercely.

"I thank you for telling me, now if you would leave my child and I in peace. We have much to grieve."

"Mamma?"

"Hush Fairnie, everything is fine." Hermione could tell from the look on the mother's face that she did not believe that.

"I'm afraid that is not possible Eerene, you know of what your husband was involved in. I cannot, we cannot allow you to continue where he left off, you must come with us."

"I know not of what you speak, and you will not do this in front of my daughter."

"Your daughter is to come too." He nodded at his followers and they moved forward, their wands in hand and pointed at the Eerene and her daughter. The mother seemed to weigh up her options, glancing between her daughter and the men before finally seeming to give up, her shoulders slumping as she let them take her away. Hermione felt a lump in the back of her throat as she watched the little girl lift her one chubby hand towards the garden as if a part of her knew that she would never see it again.

Suddenly they were once again stood beside the cabinet, staring at the memories still bouncing around in some of the bottles. Hermione watched as Draco slumped against a desk, his hand over his heart, a pained look on his face.

"Some of these suck." He mumbled, and Hermione nodded in agreement, she wanted to experience everything the past had to offer, but she had to admit that some of the memories were hard work, making her heart clench painfully in her chest.

"What do you suppose happened to her?" Hermione mumbled, shivering when she thought of ending her life like Mina's old friend Avie. Draco shook his head grimly.

"Doesn't bear thinking about, does it? Wherever that arsehole took her it couldn't have been good."

Hermione leant in closer when something caught her eye, the rune that Arden used as his insignia for the order of light, carved on the inside of one door.

"You alright there, Granger?"

"Hmmm, it's just this reminds me of…" She pressed her finger against it, watching it glow faintly, the wood of the door melting into nothing before her eyes, revealing five extra bottles that held no labels.

"Whose are these?" Draco asked, removing one and turning it in his fingers.

"I think…I think they could be Arden's. Maybe…or perhaps he thought that these were more important."

"Only one way to know for sure." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as he tipped the memory into the Pensieve.

* * *

The leaves of the trees were like golden flames in the dying light, the grounds of the Manor littered with those that had fallen, they crunched beneath Arden's boot as he slowly walked towards the willow tree that stood at the edge of his land. Its orange leaves rustled in the wind, the lowest of its branches dragging along the ring of dirt surrounding its old trunk. Taigen stood to the side, a shovel in hand and a red-haired woman that Hermione recognised as Eerene at his side, her arm linked through his, pale skin vibrant in the low light. Hermione gasped when she noticed that the woman was heavily pregnant, the roundness of her belly evident even in the baggy robes that she wore.

"It is ready?" Arden asked, looking at Taigen who nodded down at the hole he had dug grimly. Arden looked down at the package in his hand's tears welling in his eyes. Eerene stepped forward, placing her hand on the top of his arm with care.

"They will be at rest." She muttered, her voice offering consolation. Hermione shook her head, glancing up at Draco in confusion. There was no doubt it was the same woman from the previous memory, but it seemed as though she were a different person, treating Arden with such care and consideration.

"Where's her kid?" Draco mumbled, his own confusion evident on his face, glancing around the Manor's grounds and finding that there was not a child in sight.

"I don't understand."

"Eerene," Taigen spoke quietly but Hermione could see that his jaw was clenching repeatedly as though holding back anger. The woman moved away from Arden with a nod, giving him space.

"We will leave you." She muttered, letting Taigen wrap his arm around her as they walked away.

"Taigen," Arden spoke quickly, and the man turned, "a word?"

Taigen looked down at Eerene, mumbling something to her before striding back to Arden, his back seeming somewhat bare without his two axes.

"She remembers you?" Arden asked hesitantly and Taigen picked at the leather braces around his wrists and shook his head.

"No, whatever they did has worked. But I couldn't leave her. The child is mine…" Taigen shook his head again taking a deep breath, "I do not understand how the magic works, but she believes it is her late husbands, she believes he died in better circumstances."

"And you will stay with her."

"I have told her that I will support her. This world is mine now, whether I am wanted or no." Arden fingered the package in his hand grimly.

"I feel that you are more a part of this new world than I." Taigen eyes flashed with anger.

"Remember I know your crimes, what you did to Eerene and her family and I will not forget."

"Forgive me I…"

"Never. I will no longer allow my hate to guide me, but I will never forgive you."

"That is, that is…" Arden did not finish but he seemed as though he understood, letting his head sink till his chin seemed to rest against his chest. "I understand. You will marry her, yes?"

"She said that she is a Weasley and always will be and I…it remains from before, there is truth in it and I respect that." Hermione gasped at the sound of her friend's second name.

"Take care of her." Taigen grit his teeth but nodded once, turning on his heel and stalking off.

Arden shook as Taigen's steps died away, tears glittering on his cheeks as he knelt before the hole placing the package in gently.

"I will make this right, I promise." Arden sobbed, taking out his wand and using it to fill in the dirt, placing both his palms on top of the dirt, his howls of grief echoing even as they were once again placed back before the Pensieve.

"Weasley? That must mean…"

"She's Ron's ancestor." Draco scratched the back of his head.

"But what about her kid, the other one." They were both silent, both knowing what the child's absence meant but not wishing to voice it.

"She thought that her new child was her husbands, how is that…?"

"He said something about a spell," Draco gestured to Taigen, "perhaps the council was successful, and I don't know, reset everything."

Hermione quickly took the second bottle from the shelf, pouring it into the Pensieve, allowing herself to sink into yet another memory.

* * *

The room was so familiar, the green pillars and the moving paintings along the wall. Hermione glanced up at the ceiling where snowflakes gently fell, bursting into tiny plumes of magic when they hit the floor. Arden was stood in the middle, glancing around at his work with what seemed to Hermione like pride. She had to admit that it was beautiful, and if she had performed such a feat of magic she would have been proud too. Still, it angered her to see the look on his face.

Gently and with what seemed like reverence, he took a small vial from his robes placing it on the floor in front of him. Inside a bright blue substance seemed to move of its own accord, the colour of it reminding Hermione of the Sensieve's magic. Hermione reached out for Draco's hand, threading her fingers through his. She daren't look at him, but she felt him squeeze her hand as if he knew how she felt. This was the beginning of everything they had experienced together, she could feel it and having his hand in hers felt right.

Arden removed the stopper from the vial, watching as the contents snaked out of it in blue tendrils, floating in the air before him. Hermione imagined she could feel the prickle of the Sensieve's magic all around her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Arden broke his wand, letting the magic flow out to encase the blue, the two mixing together as he spoke.

"That not done, may it be done, through this. Rest be found at last." He paused a moment, letting his broken wand clatter to the floor. "Forgive me."

The magic seemed to be still for a moment, before it began to swirl seeming to fill the room, swallowing both Hermione and Draco in such a bright light that blinded them. When they could eventually see again they both gasped as the Sensieve floated in the middle of the room, in all its wondrous beauty. Arden stepped forward, reaching his hand out and letting fall after a moment when nothing happened.

"Not for me." The wizard said with resignation, his legs giving out beneath him. He knelt before his creation and began to sob.

"Arden, he created the Sensieve?" Hermione breathed when the memory had faded.

"It would seem so," Draco commented, rubbing his palm across his face. He had thought that he had reached his limit of epiphanies for the evening, but it seemed that the past just kept on surprising him, regardless of how difficult it was for him to take in.

"But it said that in order to create it that you needed a soul…Oh my, you don't think he took Mina's, do you?"

"It's possible, but then, what about Edward?"

"Argh I don't know, there are so many answers but…"

"A shit ton more questions." Draco finished, taking out the third bottle and holding up close to his face. Hermione noticed that her hand was still firmly grasped in his and she couldn't help the small smile that crept on her face. He didn't seem to notice even as he poured in the next memory and she was grateful, not wanting to let go just yet.

* * *

The sound was unbelievable, screams filled Hermione's ears as they were dumped atop a hill, a battle raging below. Hermione looked to the side and immediately scooted closer to Draco when she noticed that Arden stood beside her, overlooking it all. She knew that the wizard could not see her, but it was unnerving to have him so close.

"This must be the battle with, Tharin," Draco commented, gulped past the bile rising in his throat as he watched people getting slaughtered. Tharin's men wore armour decorated with large stones, their weaponry glowing in the dark night, seeming to absorb all the spells that the witches and wizards hurled at them. Hermione shook, and he let go of her hand, drawing her close to him and letting her bury her head in his chest.

"It's…"

"I know," he mumbled into her hair, focusing in the smell of strawberries, unable to look at the carnage himself. She was real and warm in his arms and what they saw was just the past. More screams pierced the night and he held her tighter, his fingers slipping into her hair, thumb brushing away the tears that fell down her cheeks.

"Why would they do this? All that death for…" Hermione sobbed, her fingers clutching at his coat. She had expected to handle the scene a little better, she had seen and felt horrendous things in Mina's memory, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight. She wondered if the people fighting really believed in all that they were fighting for, or did they suddenly realise the futility just as it was too late.

Movement by their side made Draco turn and he watched in disbelief as Arden turned on his heal and ran, leaving behind the people he had led to their death.

"Fucking coward." Draco ground out and Hermione followed his gaze, realising just what Arden had been begging forgiveness for, just what sat on the shoulders of the old worn wizard. He had to live with everything he had done to his people, all the lies he had told and, when they needed him the most, he had abandoned them. She guessed that their cries must have haunted him all the way through his long life and she was actually grateful, feeling not a shred of sympathy as Arden became a speck on the horizon and the memory faded.

"I can't believe him." Hermione cried, wiping her tears on her sleeves and sniffing, Draco's hand was on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing comforting circles.

"I can't believe he got away with it?" Draco murmured, "he should have been executed or…or I don't know turned into something nasty." Hermione found herself chuckling past her tears in spite of it all.

"Perhaps what he did get was worse, he had to live with that." Draco contemplated her words, seeming to partially agree with them after a moment.

"Still think they should have hexed him a little."

"Nothing would have been bad enough." Hermione countered and Draco grinned.

"I don't know, could think of a few things." Hermione laughed again, taking a deep shuddering breath.

"You okay?" His voice was soft as he gently lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. Hermione nodded and gave him a wobbly smile.

"Yes, it's just…I didn't expect that."

"We don't have to look at the others if you don't want to." He assured her, and she shook her head.

"No, we need to see this. It's important."

"Okay, but you want to stop this at any point and you tell me." Hermione smiled up at him warmly, watching as he took the fourth bottle with shaking fingers. She guessed that his care was not just to do with her, the memory seemed to have shaken him too.

"You ready?" He asked, and she nodded, watching as he took the cork out the top and took a deep breath.

"I'm not sure I am." He muttered drily but poured it into the Pensieve nonetheless.

* * *

"MINA." The boy was small, wandering through the trees, his hand cupped over his mouth as he called out. "MINA, WHERE ARE YOU?"

"You keep shouting and you'll have the centaurs after you." A girl with short brown hair countered, swinging a stick at a tree as she stepped into the boy's path.

"There are not centaurs round here," the boy countered petulantly, raising his nose in the air with a sniff, "where's Mina?"

The girl with the brown hair shrugged, a frown marring her pretty features.

"How should I know? She does what she wants."

"Oh my, is that Sonyea?" Hermione gasped, stepping closer to examine the girl more closely. Much had changed about her since her childhood but there was no mistaking Sonyea in the little girl, her pixie-like features even evident from such a young age.

"So, this little shits Arden then?" Draco commented, looking at the boy with distaste. Even when he was younger he seemed weedy and cowardly.

"I want to show her a spell I've learnt," Arden stated with pride, brandishing his wand. Sonyea tipped her head to the side and sniffed, her face seeming rather unimpressed.

"What spell?"

"I'm not telling you." He countered, drawing his wand close to his chest as though she would somehow force him to cast it.

"Bet there isn't one really, you just want an excuse to see her."

"Have too."

"Show me then." Sonyea sat herself down on a rock, looking up Arden expectantly. Hermione wondered how someone as strong and willful as Sonyea could have ever fallen in love with someone like Arden. Whatever the witch had seen in him felt as though it were hidden away from view completely.

Young Arden made a face but raised his wand snootily, producing a small ball of flame that floated in the air between them. Hermione guessed from the look on Sonyeas' face that it was nothing special.

"Is that it?" Sonyea asked with a grin, clutching her stomach as she laughed at Arden's woeful display of magic. Arden was not impressed by the turn of events, frowning at her and stomping his feet.

"I can do more, that's, that's just the start." He countered, quickly casting another spell that made twigs and dirt lift from the floor and float before them. Sonyea didn't bother to voice her disappointment but Hermione could tell by the look on her face that she was not impressed. Arden bristled at this quickly casting yet more spells, transfiguring the branches into little wooden knights that marched towards Sonyea, their swords raised above their heads.

"I don't know about you, but if I could do that at his age I'd have been thoroughly impressed with myself," Draco commented.

"I suppose Old Magic just made everything easier. Everyone was more powerful." Hermione wondered how different things would have been if they'd kept to their old ways, she shuddered when she thought of how powerful Voldemort could have been.

Both Hermione and Draco turned when a young boy stepped from behind a tree, his hands clenching and unclenching as he looked at Arden and his tiny army of wooden warriors.

"It's Edward." Hermione breathed, instantly recognising the young boy, dirt smeared across his face and anger in his eyes.

"Arden let's go." Arden shrugged her off, pointing his wand at the boy menacingly.

"Who are you?" Arden asked, trying to look down his long nose at the boy who was a good deal taller than him, dirt smeared across his cheeks and a dark anger shifting in his blue eyes. The boy said nothing, only rushed at Arden, his teeth clenched as he whirled his fist into Arden's face for the first time, watching with awe when Arden's eyes widened, and he fell back onto the floor.

"STOP IT," Sonyea shouted and Edward ignored her, moving over Arden and hitting him the face, over and over again. Hermione could see that Edward was somewhere far away at that moment, it wasn't Arden he was punching but something else, another enemy that he couldn't yet attack.

"STOP IT," Sonyea screamed it again and yanked Edward away, moving around him as he sprawled in the dirt. "Leave him alone."

She knelt down by her friends' side, gently holding his head in her hands, assessing the damage. His nose was broken, Draco could see that a mile off, bent all out of shape and incredibly bloodie. Draco felt a little triumph for Edward, at least he had got to hit the arsehole at some point, even if it was when they were very young.

"You going to turn me into a frog, witch." They were the first words Edward had spoken and they were said with a tired resignation that caught Hermione by surprise. There were many things she had expected from young Edward, but this wasn't it. He climbed to his feet slowly, examining his bloodie knuckles before turning back to her.

"Leave him be." Sonyea shook her head as Edward walked towards her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Leave him be and I…" Mina was instantly between them, her blonde hair trailing behind her, her green eyes boring into Edwards with such ferocity that he instantly took a step back.

"I'll turn you into something much worse than a frog if you don't leave." Edward laughed at Mina's statement, but Hermione could see doubt creeping into his blue eyes.

"You think that scares me?"

"I know it does because you're a bully and you always will be." Edward laughed at her bitterly. "You hurt others because you're scared." The word seemed to both anger and scare Edward because even as his jaw clenched he was stepping away from her. Mina took the opportunity to turn to her friends, helping Sonyea lift Arden off the ground. Arden turned his head to look back at the boy, his one eye already swelling closed.

"Do you think he knew?" Hermione asked, watching the memory fade.

"Knew what?"

"That Mina wasn't saving him that day, she was saving Sonyea." Draco sighed, staring down at his shoes for a few minutes before meeting Hermione's inquisitive gaze.

"Probably, but you'll be amazed how much a person can delude themselves when they really want to." Hermione figured that was what Mina had done too, telling herself over and over that her intervention that day was because of Arden, but she knew that it wasn't. Mina hadn't been hiding far away, she would have seen the whole thing play out exactly as they had and only when Sonyea had been threatened did she choose to show herself.

"You seem to know an awful lot about delusion."

"Well I'm surrounded by practitioners of the art, you pick up a fair few things." Hermione scowled up at him as he grinned mischievously.

Hermione gently removed the last bottle from its hiding place.

"The last one." The words felt monumental as she said them, and a hush seemed to have settled in the room. Hermione tipped the memory into the Pensieve. They both looked at each other, then together looked down into the misty surface, letting the magic pull them into another memory.

* * *

"They call you Lightening Wielder." Arden spoke to Taigen who was stood beside him in the Great Hall. They were near the large door, a stack of wands piled beside them, held together by thin twine. The council members were stood in a circle towards the other end of the room, breaking wands and pouring the magic into a large black cauldron that sat in the middle of them. Taigen turned to Arden slowly, his dark eyes giving nothing away but pure hatred. Arden shrunk back from it but carried on stuttering his sentence.

"I…I heard them refer to you as such." Taigen simply nodded, shifting his weight slightly on his feet, looking as though he were ready to pounce on anyone and anything. Draco recognised the stance as one that Bear took quite often, guessing that the large man had probably taught Taigen everything he knew.

"I heard that your friend, a large warrior he perished in a fight to save many witches and wizards." Taigen visibly tensed but still remained silent. "There were whispers that he was the storm when you fought with lightning." Taigen turned to the wizard fully, his hand hovering over a knife on his belt that Draco recognised as belonging to Rhylan. His heart fell at the thought of both men falling because of such a pitiful war.

"What the fuck are you stammering about?" Arden visibly paled, fiddling with the large sleeves of his robes.

"I…er…I was just interested in…well, why they thought that?"

"You have no right to talk of him, or to ask such questions." Taigen turned back, letting his gaze once again fall on the witches and wizards, the cauldron glowing with all the magic it contained.

"Right, yes…I am…forgive me." There was a long silence before Taigen finally spoke.

"The call me lightning wielder because I did, through my axes. And Bear was the storm."

Arden nodded, although Hermione had to admit that she would not have been impressed with the answer he had given, a thousand more questions jumping into her head.

"What does he mean?" She whispered to Draco who shrugged.

"Not sure, but he saw the lightning thing in a vision, could be that." Hermione found Draco's answer just as vague and annoying but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn't want to miss anything.

The dark-haired wizard that everyone referred to as His Majesty made his way over to Arden, nodding slightly at Taigen as he bowed. Arden bowed himself, his whole frame shaking underneath the other man's scrutiny.

"There is much to do once the spell is complete, you are prepared?"

"Yes, your majesty. I have help."

"Hmmm I have heard, the centaurs have been quite forthcoming."

"They have seen it in the stars, your majesty. They have been preparing for many years."

"Very well, once we have cast Obliviate, you know what you must do. We will need a guardian to fully run Armour, you shall appoint them." Arden bowed again.

"Taigen Lightening Wielder." Taigen stood straighter at his name and the dark wizard smiled at him.

"You have done a great service to our people, but I fear that I must ask more."

"Name it." He said quickly.

"I must ask you to watch Arden. I am giving you this chance," he turned to Arden, "you will not fail me. Do and Taigen will take from you what you have taken from so many others."

"Yes, your majesty."

The man turned, his black robes billowing behind him. The council members at the end of the hall were no longer breaking wands but waiting expectantly. He walked to the edge of the cauldron, raising his wand as though to conduct an orchestra and as the magic rose, Hermione felt as though he actually was, drawing forth a myriad of colours from the cauldrons depths and making them float into the air. The air seemed to hum with the magic, a sweet and powerful song that only grew louder as each council member lifted their wands too, muttering under their breath.

Another room seemed to form within the one they stood, shimmering in and out of reality. Hermione gasped as she recognised it. ARMA, she and Draco were witnessing its creation, the beginning of life as they now knew it. The magic swirled around them, forming the pillars, the shelves, the intricate mosaic floor where mermaids were brought to life and swam around their feet. Eventually, the magic disappeared, and a small wand floated down to land in His Majesty's outstretched hand. He gestured for Arden to walk forward and take it.

"You will give this to the guardian of your choosing," Arden nodded at his words, "protect it with your life and magic."

The dark-haired wizard sighed sadly and nodded at his fellow council members, who muttered under their breath and instantly the room disappeared, leaving them once again in the Great Hall.

"Wow," Draco muttered under his breath.

"I know…I know it's…" Hermione didn't have the words, shaking her head and opening and closing her mouth in disbelief. There was such an ease to their magic, a simple and as easy as breathing. There had only been a few mumbled words and they had created something that had lasted centuries, that recorded the use of magic from all over the world, the magnitude of it was unbelievable.

"Where did it go?"

"Mr Gregory said that it's constantly moving. I guess it must be some sort of safety measure."

Lady Greengrass, gently flicked her wrist, a small crackle leaving the end of her wand. The large black cauldron instantly blinked out of existence, leaving the council members stood in a circle, glancing at one another with apprehension. His Majesty stepped forward, running his fingers through his jet-black hair before looking at each of them in turn, his expression grave.

"Once we begin this spell we cannot stop. All emotional ties to the past, both good and bad must be forgotten, lest they influence the memories we are trying to recreate. This will not be easy, and it may…it may go wrong…" There were a few mutters from the other side of the circle where Slughorn stood, his shoulders hunched. "I will not force any of you to perform this spell with me but know that without your support, it will be made all the harder. You are the most powerful witches and wizards who have made their way here and I need your help to take our people into a new age. I would ask that you each state your name and your agreement, should anything go wrong…" He did not complete his sentence, but the meaning hung heavy in the air. "I will begin."

He cleared his throat and stepped forward, "I, Phaldayus Prince, of the Royal Household Prince and acting leader of the magical council, do so pledge my magic and my life to the new cause." There was a brief silence after he had finished, the witches and wizards looking at one another, wondering who would speak next. Draco's ancestor was the next to step forward, head held high and blonde hair tied back from his face. She could see the famous aristocratic features that all the Malfoys seemed to have

"I, Avernon Malfoy, do so pledge my magic and my life to the new cause. May it be a new start for us all." Lady Greengrass was next, shuffling forward and making her pledge with a loud voice. Next, the handsome wizard stepped forward, flashing a grin to all those gathered.

"I, Dorian Parkinson, pledge my magic and my life to the new cause, although I'd rather not have to pledge my life." None of the others gathered laughed and the young man seemed to sober, nodding at Phaldayus, Lady Greengrass and Avernon.

"Parkinson?"

"I know it's like a reunion at the common room."

Castien Lestrange and Sheilan Knott followed suit both making their oath and closing up the circle. Only one wizard stood outside of it, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.

"Slughorn." Avernon Malfoy spoke, shocking the plump wizard out of his thoughts.

"I cannot, I cannot do this…" He shook his head again.

"No one will force you, but we are so few already, without your aid there will be less chance of success." Slughorn nodded, but even as he did so he stepped out of the circle.

"You may deign to control the future, Your Majesty, but I will have no part in it. This is dangerous, needlessly dangerous."

"Very well.' The dark-haired wizard nodded, joining hands with Avernon and Lady Greengrass who were either side of him. They, in turn, did the same till the whole circle was connected, their wands placed before them at their feet. Slughorn hurried past Arden and Taigen, head lowered as he exited the room.

"Well can't say as I blame him," Draco commented, turning back to look at the council.

"But staying was the right thing to do," Hermione muttered in reply.

"Yeah, but possible death does not sound like a tempting offer." Hermione didn't answer him, but she had to admit he was right. The witches and wizards gathered would have had to have been incredibly brave to stand as they did and cast the spell, and not one of their descendants was a Gryffindor.

The witches and wizards gathered began muttering quietly and from what Hermione could tell, each person was saying something slightly different. she wondered how such a spell could ever be cast with any sort of success when each person was casting something completely different to the other. Her thoughts were interrupted by a grey wisp flying past her head, floating towards the gathering and joining other wisps till a great grey cloud hovered in the middle of the council. Images shimmered in the cloud, snippets of sounds echoing and falling into silence.

"You think those are people's memories?" Draco asked, leaning down close to whisper in her ear.

"They must be."

Suddenly there was a gasp to the side of them and Arden had stepped forward, hesitating before stepping back into place beside Taigen, his eyes wide with horror.

"No…"

"What is it?" Taigen turned to him angrily, his hand drawing the dagger on his hip out of its hilt so quickly that Hermione almost missed the action.

"The spell…" Both Hermione and Draco followed Arden's finger, their own eyes widening as they noticed the black tendril that seemed to grow from the side of Lady Greengrass's head and was gradually moving around the circle.

"What is this?" Taigen grabbed Arden by the front of his robes, hoisting the man off the floor with ease, "what have you done?"

Arden blubbed a couple of times shaking his head, holding his hands up before him.

"I…nothing…it's…" Arden sucked in a breath quickly, "It's hate."

Taigen dropped Arden unceremoniously, the action reminding Draco of the way Bear had handled Taigen when they had first met.

"Is there anything that can be done?" Taigen asked, his jaw clenching as he watched the tendril finally complete the circle, becoming darker and more ominous as the spell continued.

"No, once the spell has begun it cannot be stopped."

"What will it do?" Arden shrugged at Taigen's question, hesitantly climbing to his feet and adjusting his robes.

"It is hard to say, it may influence the memories of all, or it may simply affect those gathered here today. It may be prevalent, it may be subtle. It is hard to tell such things." Taigen nodded wearily, sheathing his knife

The two of them watched the spell continue, both jumping slightly when the orb in the middle of the council exploded sending the grey wisps in thousands of different directions. When the mist had cleared the council members all lay on the floor, their eyes closed and faces ashen.

"They can't be dead," Draco muttered, something in his tone giving away his disbelief in his statement.

"No, it's not possible."

Arden rushed forward, quickly checking on each of them and letting out a sigh of relief, sinking to the floor.

"Let us hope there is not too much damage." Taigen began collecting their wands and Arden followed behind him, placing down replacements.

"You're sure these will work?" Taigen asked, glancing down at the replacement wand that had been placed beside Lady Greengrass.

"As well as they can. It will not be as powerful but magic will live on."

"What will we do with their wands?" Taigen asked, holding them out to Arden.

"We must destroy them." Taigen nodded quickly, moving to snap them in half but Arden stopped him.

"Your friend?" Taigen's expression darkened again.

"What about him?"

"Why do believe that he was the storm?" Taigen took a deep breath, before looking up at Arden.

"His people believed that when death finds you, you are taken back to the sky. You become it." Arden nodded, gesturing for Taigen to give him the wands.

"Everything we were has died here today," Arden muttered, breaking each of them in turn, the magic floating above his head. He took out his wand pointing it towards the glowing mass.

"Muro a'din"

The light almost blinded them, but when it faded, Hermione could not believe her eyes. The ceiling of the Great Hall was as she had always known it, the sky staring down at them as if it bore no ceiling. Draco was once again gripping Hermione's hand, a grin on his face as he took it all in. He knew the moment would mean a lot to her, but it meant a lot to him too, seeing how something of such import in their lives had come to be. Knowing that the magic of their ancestors, ancient and wise had always above their heads felt somewhat comforting.


	72. Stone Giants

Okay, so I know I have been teasing you with the whole Draco and Hermione relationship, and I know, like a git I've done it again in this one, but please stay with me, we are getting close :). Also thanks so much for all the reviews and follows, as I've said before they mean a lot, cannot stress how much. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading.

* * *

"Arden said it was hate," Hermione said suddenly, and Draco looked up from the strange contraption he'd been fiddling with. It was a globe that mapped out the night sky with gold arms that protruded, tapering off to fine points that pinpointed certain stars.

"Yes," He answered suspiciously, turning to watch Hermione pace, an amused smile on his face.

"Well, think about the people that were there, we know the spell worked because we're here…but what if the spell only affected those that cast it and…what was it that Arden said?" She paused in her pacing to look at him and Draco was instantly stilled by how beautiful she looked. He grit his teeth and looked away. "What if it was subtle?"

"Like generations worth of muggle prejudice?" Draco asked drily, and Hermione caught herself, remembering who she was talking to. Draco found the widening of her eyes and the opening and closing of her mouth rather amusing.

"I'm so…" Draco waved his hand at her, not letting her finish.

"Don't be, you make a valid point; Malfoy, Knott, Parkinson, Lestrange, Greengrass," he rattled them off quickly, and Hermione found herself wincing when he said the last name, "not exactly high up on the list of muggle lovers are they? In fact, I'd go as far to say they aren't exactly known for kindness, ever." Hermione didn't want to agree with him, he was right of course, but admitting it felt like she was tarring them all with the same brush and she knew from experience that it wasn't true, especially when Draco had shown her that he could be different.

"But how could it last so long?" She pondered, tapping her chin thoughtfully, her eyes roving the cabinet, wondering if any of the memories they hadn't viewed held any answers. She didn't exactly want to go jumping back into the Pensieve, but she didn't like to leave things unanswered.

"Come on Granger, all you need to do is dice some ginger roots and your potion is ruined." Hermione furrowed her brow at him, remembering the destruction of their potion that had landed them a detention together, the start of everything.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he heaved a sigh, fiddling with the edge of the scroll on the table beside him, "all you need is one thing to throw everything off. Hate is…well its tricky to get rid of and then it gets passed down and gets passed down and before you know it," he grinned sardonically, "generations of hatred and no one having a clue why. My guess would be that it wasn't even muggles in the first place, they just found someone to blame."

"It's amazing the things you come out with," Hermione mumbled.

"You keep saying this, Granger, you should be used to it by now."

"Don't think I'll ever get used to it." She grinned at him cheekily and he looked away quickly, hiding his blush behind a fake interest in whatever was on the table beside the strange globe.

"That's quite hurtful."

"You don't think that." She countered, and he chuckled.

"No, but its fun to wind you up."

Hermione shook her head and began rifling through some papers, leaning closer to read the fine writing. Draco carried on the search too, choosing to ignore the scrolls and picking up the various strange implements that were scattered haphazardly around. There was no real guessing as to what their intended purpose would have been, but they were interesting none the less, he was so caught up in his musings that the sound of Hermione's voice again made him jump.

"It's pointless."

"What is?" He asked, placing small knife he'd been examining back down.

"All of this, there's nothing here." Hermione tugged at a stray curl in frustration, blowing it out of her face as she scanned through yet another pile of scrolls, huffing when she once again found that they contained very little in the way of useful information.

"Well unless Sornious and Arden labelled their writing nefarious plots and the like, we'd have to go through all of this to be sure." He gestured around the room and Hermione let out a strangled sound, her shoulders slumping. There was no way they were going to get through all of this in one night and he was right unless they read everything meticulously there was no guarantee that they hadn't missed something. Something important.

Fearing that the pile she had been searching through might still have some answers, she began reading again, blinking her eyes quickly when they began to sting, determined that something as stupid as tiredness wouldn't get in the way of her finding answers.

"What were they up to?" Hermione finally ground out and Draco sighed, walking across the room and putting his hands on her shoulders, turning her round to look at him.

"You think maybe that some things are just better left…I don't know where they belong, well and truly in the past." Hermione looked up at him and his heart ached when he saw the look of sheer defeat on her face/

"It's just, I saw what happened to those people, he took something…something that was them…"

"Making all the sense." Hermione scowled at him but carried out talking.

"I just want to know what happened to them and I thought it would be here, of all places."

"Hey, Granger, we can come back. Sure, there's a heck of a lot of stuff to get through, but what's one more sleepless night studying the tiniest text imaginable." He felt like a king amongst men when she smiled up at him, joy glimmering like a little speck of light in the corner of her eyes. "Now," he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, "I think we should probably be making a move, I have no idea what time it is exactly but…"

Hermione nodded, he was right, after all, they didn't have all night, but maybe another time…she smiled at his back as he picked up his torch, pushing the button and smirking when a circle of light appeared on the wall. She struggled to fight a smile growing on her face, warmth coiling in the pit of her stomach. He had done so much to make her feel better that night, being the perfect gentleman, offering to bring her back to the Manor. A part of her hoped it was because he wanted to see her happy, that there was a small part of him that felt the way she did. It was a vain hope and she knew it, reminding herself that he had a girlfriend. But a girlfriend that he had chosen not to spend Christmas Eve with.

Draco was heading to the door reminding himself over and over again why making a move on Granger would be a bad idea. Sure, he was probably a coward, but there were so many other things to consider, like the hate that they had spoken about only a few minutes ago being very real within his family, so much so that they were willing to put their lot in with a crazy powerful wizard that just wouldn't die. Then there was the other more pressing consideration, which made him gulp to even think about. What if she didn't want him? It was a genuine concern, one he hadn't truly considered but had snuck up on him and settled in his heart unannounced. He wasn't sure he could take the rejection, her pushing him away the first time had been bad enough. What if she did it again? He turned around checking to see that she was in fact following him out the door, only to find that she was lingering, glancing sadly around her.

"Veritaserum for your thoughts, Granger?" He quipped, walking back towards her and leaning down so that he caught her eye, which had turned their gaze to inspect her shoes.

"It doesn't matter." The sigh was deep and heavy and betraying everything she was trying to keep hidden.

"Come on, Granger, I'm a Slytherin, you're going to have to lie better than that."

"You're probably going to laugh at me." Draco clicked off his torch and grinned at her.

"Probably, but I'm willing to risk it if you are."

"Haha, very funny."

"Isn't it? Now, come one, talk to me." Draco mounted a desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he looked at her expectantly. Hermione fought back a grin, shaking her head.

"You know, your arse is probably crushing some priceless documents." Hermione raised her eyebrow at him, pointing out the pile that was cushioning his behind and Draco grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Thinking about my arse, Granger?" Hermione felt her cheeks burning at his statement, mightily grateful when Draco carried on talking, "now, tell me, what's got your hair all in a frizz."

Hermione took a deep breath, drawing Mina's wand out of her pocket and examining the detail.

"It's just, it's sad that's all. All this magic that is within us and that we're connected to and we are just…cut off from it all."

Draco sat back, absorbing her words. He had thought about it too, there was something so real and right about using his ancestor's wand. Yes, it thoroughly petrified him wielding that much magic, but he also felt as though he were finally in place, his magic apart of something greater, moving and shifting as one with it. It was a shame that others weren't able to share in the experience, but he supposed there was a really good reason for that.

"It sucks but it's probably a good thing, I mean, think about how badly things could have gone if You-Know-Who got his grubby paws on such a power." Hermione did her best to school her surprise when Draco spoke out against Voldemort, but he caught the flicker of emotion and scoffed. "I'm a dick, Granger, not an idiot. I don't see the point in idolising a megalomaniac." _But my father might_. He winced as the thought came unbidden into his head.

"I know…I know and you're right, it's just…You know what your magic looks like and- well I've seen Mina's and I…"

"You want to know what yours looks like." Hermione nodded when he finished her sentence, blushing a little that her thoughts were that easy to read.

Draco realised why something as simple as that would be so important to her; all his life he had been reminded of how powerful he was, of his place within the magical world and how important his family way. Granger, on the other hand, had found out about her magic all too late, catching up and surpassing others easily but still having to cope with the other looking down on her simply because she didn't come from a magical household. Guilt burnt in his gut at the part he had played in making her feel that way. She had always pretended like his words didn't matter, lifting her chin and sauntering past him like she didn't feel their sting, but he saw now that they had. Everything he had ever said had stayed with her and he had never hated himself more.

He removed his ancestor's wand from his pocket and twirled it in his fingers, all the while berating himself for being such a first-class dick.

"There's a spell you know, it reveals magic." He knew she'd probably disagree, prattle on about how there were rules and while one spell was okay, they didn't want to tempt fate. He was surprised however when he looked up and found that she was staring at the wand with such hope, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

"You think…I mean, it would just be one spell."

"Just one spell, Granger."

"And it's not like any of the others have…you know."

"No, they haven't." Draco clarified.

"And you're sure it's…"

"Wow, seriously, I'm sure. I haven't been expelled yet and, I'm pretty sure we are safe for the foreseeable." She quieted but carried on worrying her bottom lip which Draco was finding incredibly distracting. He shook his head violently and concentrated on trying to remember the spell, slipping off the desk onto his feet.

"Now, no guarantee this will work, my memory is shoddy." He muttered, focusing on his magic watching it grow brighter as he focused on it, imagine it travelling through him and into the wand. He muttered the spell and smiled when he heard Hermione gasp.

When he opened his eyes he realised his mistake, he'd revealed her magic alright and the magic of everything else in the room, meaning it had become blindingly bright, filled with so many colours and vibrant light that he was only able to squint, his eyes struggling to adjust to the glare. Hermione, however, seemed to have no such trouble, twirling around to take it all in, her brown eyes wide, the colours dancing within her brown orbs in the most tantalising way. Draco cleared his throat.

"This is, this is the magic of, I guess everything." Hermione trailed her fingers over the streams of light emanating from the Pensieve's cabinet, little left-over bits of magic from all the witches and wizards who had deposited their memories, creating a kaleidoscope of colours some of which Draco was sure there was no name for.

"Granger." She looked up at him as he walked towards her, gently turning her around so she could see where she had been. The pearlescent light that floated in the air and clung to her very being was so very Hermione that he couldn't catch his breath for a second. He remembered when he had first seen it, completely blown away by the sheer beauty of it and the fact that there was no denying it anymore, her birthright had quite literally blinded him. He trailed his hand through it, flushing slightly at how intimate it all felt, this was apart of her and he was sharing it with her, revealing it to her.

Hermione gently lifted her hand too, following Draco's through the air. His next words came out as hoarse whisper because there was a lump in his throat that he couldn't explain or understand, but he felt at that moment he was so connected to her, so unbelievably intertwined with all she was that speaking seemed almost impossible.

"That's you."

Hermione's mouth was open, and tears were once again slipping down her cheeks, silent and glowing in the light. She would have never believed that she would feel this right about who she was with someone like Malfoy, but there he was; her back cradled against his chest as he mapped out her magic in the air. She had expected it to feel strange seeing it, but it was so right as if she had known all along and she just needed pointing in the right direction. She had no words to describe her joy, her gratitude to Draco for showing her something so important, for risking expulsion to make her feel better about her magic.

She whirled around, flinging her arms around him and burying her head in his neck, holding him so close that she could feel his heart racing with her own. He gently lifted his own arms to hold her close, his hands shaking slightly because he was thinking about what Daphne had said again and it seemed like the only sane bit of advice he'd ever received. The fear was there, it was knotting in his stomach making its presence well and truly known, but he realised that it didn't matter. Even if he got to taste her just for a few seconds, to reacquaint himself with just how good her bottom lip felt between his, then he could probably commit himself to celibacy and spend the rest of his life avoiding her out of sheer embarrassment, but at the very least he'd have the memory.

He pulled away from her slightly, looking down at her, at her lips, licking his own because suddenly they were so dry. She stared back at him like she knew the thoughts in his head, her hands clutching the back of his head unconsciously, dragging him down towards her. That was all the invitation, imagined or not, that he needed, fully committing to swooping down and finally getting to breathe her in. They both paused, lips just millimetres apart when they heard a crash, like rocks tumbling over each other from a great height.

"What was that?" Hermione whispered as the sound erupted again, the walls around them seeming to shake.

"I don't think I want to know." Draco murmured, his arms slipping from around Hermione's waist as she stepped away, grabbing her torch and switching it on.

"Granger." He whispered her name furiously as she made her way to the safe door, waving her hand behind her in a gesture that he guessed meant either shut up, or come here. He decided to ignore both.

"Granger, seriously…" He paused when a loud rumble echoed throughout the Manor and he lost his footing when the whole place seemed to shake. He managed to stumble his way after Hermione, exiting the safe and pointing his beam of light down the corridor where Hermione was peering.

"What the…I don't see anything." Hermione mumbled, flitting her torch about, shining it at a gap in the ceiling. Draco shook his head, wondering maybe if the foundations were finally giving up the ghost or simply shifting about into a comfier position.

"We should probably close up the safe and get out of here," Hermione muttered, and Draco nodded in affirmation.

"What do I say?"

"Muro a'din." Draco nodded, quickly closing the door and muttering the spell, watching it disappear from sight. He tucked his ancestor's wand in his pocket. "You have everything?" Hermione nodded, tapping the pocket where Mina's wand lay.

"Right, let's get out of here." Just as he said that a great stone hand broke through the floor of the corridor, scraping at the falling rubble as it pulled a hulking figure up through the gap. Hermione's mouth opened wide as one of the statues from the lower floor stood before them, Greatsword held in one giant hand.

"Ummm, you think that's supposed to do that?" Draco asked, his face somehow much paler than usual as he backed up into the study, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her with him.

"I don't…I don't…" The statue roared at them and Hermione stumbled over the detritus on the floor, twirling around to find some sort of escape as it approached.

"Okay, would really love that brilliant brain of yours right about now." Hermione registered the compliment but couldn't quite think, glancing around the bare room and coming up blank.

"Shit there's another one." Draco cried, watching as another hulking piece of rock heaved itself through the gap and shambled towards them. Draco tried calling on his magic, using his ancestor's wand to cast all manner of spells that seemed to ricochet off the giants and make very little impact.

"You should not be…"

"Not the time, Granger, seriously not the time. We need another plan." He tried casting more spells, mumbling bits of them wrong in his fear. The corridor was only so long, and the statue seemed to be gaining fast, in spite of the precarious state of the Manor around them.

"The passages," Hermione said suddenly, blinking past her disbelief at having forgotten all about them.

"What?"

"Oh my, how could I forget, the passages. This Manor it has loads of them and…" Hermione began inspecting the furthest wall, quickly finding the hidden door and swinging it open with pride. She turned quickly to Draco, her face morphing into horror as the statue filled the doorway trying to bring its sword down on Draco's head.

"WATCH OUT." She shrieked, sucking in a breath when Draco managed to vault out the way, hurrying her into the small passage and following close behind.

"Where does this lead?" He whispered, glancing behind him every few seconds.

"Umm." Hermione had a vague recollection of the passageways, but she had to admit it was a little sketchy at best, especially with the Manor so changed.

"What do you mean, um," Draco all but shrieked, crying out when the tunnel behind him seemed to fold in on itself, stone fingers grasping through the rubble, "doesn't matter, just keep going."

The tunnel seemed to wind in all directions till it eventually opening out into a room whose outer wall had collapsed. Hermione could see the outline of the trees in the darkness, branches reaching high up to the grey clouds.

"Quick, through here." She grabbed Draco's hand drawing him through only to double back in horror. There was a statue standing in the doorway, axe in hand, the one side of the fearsome weapon broken off, however, the other edge looked surprisingly sharp. It hunched under the doorway, its shoulders dislodging stones as it pulled its way in, cold blue eyes fixed on them.

"We've got to go back…" she turned to where they had come only to find the wall crumbling in on itself, the other giant having undermined the tunnel entirely.

"Granger get behind me." Hermione glanced at Draco shocked as he tugged her arm, pushing him behind him even as she noticed that he was shaking all over. He began hurling spells as they inched their way across the wall. Hermione found it difficult to think, she had been in so many situations with Harry but there had always seemed to be some way out, something that they had overlooked that suddenly made things right again. When she looked at their situation, backing up towards the gaping hole in the side of the building and looking down at the drop onto the stones and snow below, she realised that there might not actually be a way out.

"Malfoy." Her voice shook as she gripped the back of his coat. He kept backing them up till Hermione only had to lean forward a little and she had a dizzying view of the ground below. Draco moved her aside, looking down himself and tutting when he couldn't see anything.

"My broom," he muttered, his eyes lighting up with realisation, checking on the statue that now had a companion struggling in behind it. Draco froze mid-spell when the first statue lifted its axe, bringing it down on the floor with an extraordinary amount of strength. Draco stumbled, gaping as he watched cracks appear, the ground beginning to give way beneath their feet. He felt as though time had slowed, they were going to fall, that much was obvious, they were going to fall and probably going to die. He thought about so much in such a short space of time, drawing Hermione into his arms as he imagined a world without her brilliance, without her mind, without her frustrating way of biting that bottom lip of hers.

"Hold on to me." He shouted, not sure if she heard, but her hands were fisted into his coat as they fell together, the statue moving forward and falling with them. He pointed his wand towards the sky, his brain finally supplying the right spell and he focused on it, willed it with all of his being to be right and shouted it as loudly as he could.

"MOLLIARE!"

They both suddenly came to a stop, as though there were something soft and cushiony beneath them and gently fell the rest of the way until they landed on the ground with a thump. Draco groaned when Hermione fell on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

He glanced up, his heart once again racing as he watched rocks teeter then begin crashing towards them. The statues seemed to be flinging themselves out as well, following their path, weapons raised above their heads. Spells hadn't worked on them before and he was almost sure they wouldn't work now, but he had to try, for himself, for Granger. He thought of his lessons with Snape and cast a protection spell around them, rolling on top of Granger as his magic spread around them, creating a dome of light over where they lay

"Malfoy." Hermione gasped, feeling helpless as she watched the rocks descend, knowing all too well that if it didn't work then they would both be crushed.

The rocks and statues smashed against the barrier and crumbled, breaking apart into a thousand pieces and pebbling the earth around them. They were still for a few moments, both breathing heavily, the realisation that they were both alive still sinking in.

"You okay, Granger?" Draco asked, looking down at her, she nodded at him mutely, unable to find her voice. He had saved her, Draco Malfoy had saved her, deliberately putting himself in harm's way. It was so unlike him, so unlike everything his house professed to be that she was sure she must have imagined it all. Draco quickly rolled off her, letting out a breath and running his hands over his face.

"Remind me never to do this again. I don't know how you golden lot manage it." Hermione let out a shaky laugh, her hand reaching down to check that Mina's wand was still in her pocket and still intact. She closed her eyes in relief when she found that it was safe.

"It gets easier. Everything works out in the end." Draco tried to laugh, but his chest hurt, and his heart was still hammering in his chest. His thoughts of a world without Granger had been petrifying, mainly because the feeling was new, he was only supposed to care about himself and that was how he'd always operated. Being selfless was definitely not something he'd ever thought would come naturally and yet, he'd somehow managed it, without even thinking. He looked at her, trying to capture the moment in his mind forever, she was alive and taking deep, real breaths that clouded around her face. Her eyes were gleaming, and she was staring up at the sky with wonder.

"Malfoy," she breathed excitedly, sitting up and smacking his arm.

"Ow, what?"

"Look, look." Draco glanced up, small specks of light were rising up into the sky, blue mist trailing behind them.

"What are they?"

"It's the souls." She recognised the trail of blue from Mina's memories, knowing in her heart that these were the people that Arden had trapped. She guessed that he had encased them in the statues, using them as warriors to protect the Manor. She had no idea why they had woken when they had and come after them, but at that moment it didn't matter. They were no longer trapped and Arden or Sornious could no longer get to them.

The Manor began to fold in on itself, it's walls finally giving way as more lights flitted out from its ruins, rising into the sky and disappearing into the thick clouds. Draco looked at Hermione and realised that this was what she needed. It wasn't an explanation but now she knew that the souls were safe, and he knew that would make her happy. He put his hand over hers, smiling slightly. Yes, he had faced near death because of her, but at that moment he felt like a hero, a real to goodness hero. It was a nice feeling and he wondered if that was why Potty got so caught up in everything he could, just so he could bask in the heroic afterglow.

"They're free, Malfoy, they're finally free." Hermione breathed in awe and Draco smiled at her, it faltering slightly when he realised that he had seen this night somewhere before, Edward had seen it and he couldn't help but wonder why.


	73. Stupid Traditions

Hope you enjoy :) Okay made a few changes, next chapter will follow soon.

* * *

"Why do you think they woke up?" Draco asked, watching the last of the souls disappear into the night, the brightness of them leaving little trails of colour on his vision.

"I don't know, maybe they weren't used to visitors at this time." Draco laughed at Hermione's suggestion, clambering to his feet and brushing down the back of his coat that was covered in huge chunks of snow.

"Trust me in the summer, just around this time, this place is heaving." Draco murmured. It was a tradition among young couples to visit the manor and exchange all the saliva they could in one of its many winding corridors or abandoned rooms. He himself had never actually been, preferring the luxury of Boden Hill that Theo had discovered, to the dark and dingy corridors of the Manor, now that he really thought about it though, both were a tad weird.

"Oh yeah, brought someone have you?" Hermione asked, her voice far more clipped than she'd intended. The thought of him at the Manor taking part in such activities with someone else made her stomach hurt. The thought of him doing those things with her on the other hand…

"Well, apart from you, I can't say as I have." His grey eyes glimmered with mischief and she found herself momentarily hypnotised by them. She wondered how he would react if she'd grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the manor, pressed him against the nearest wall and gave in to all the things she'd been imagining for far too long. Her imagination ran a little flat however when she noticed the state of the Manor.

The pair of them had been so distracted by the lights and each other that they had not noticed the Manor slowly but surely folding in on itself, the tower being the only thing that remained and even that seemed to be swaying precariously.

"Did we do that?" She whispered, and Draco followed her gaze his eyes widening.

"Mural will not be happy about this." He shook his head, grinning slightly when Hermione gave him a panicked look.

"It can't be that bad right, the tower's still standing." Draco chuckled at her rather poor attempts to make herself feel better.

"Come on Granger, how long do you think that thing is really going to stay upright," as if to highlight Draco's point the tower seemed to lurch to the side, definitely leaning towards the ground as if it were desperate to fall. "Besides, it's a bad place remember."

"But the safe, all the artefacts, writings we have nothing to…" Hermione paused, her eyes lighting up as she ran off into the darkness. For one fearful moment, Draco thought she intended to re-enter the manor even as it fell down around her, but he sighed in relief as he watched her small beam of light bounce off around the corner. He shook his head, realising he had little choice but to follow her, they realistically needed to leave the scene of the crime as soon as they possibly could, but he knew Granger; if there was something that she wished to find, she would absolutely do it before they could go anywhere, otherwise he'd never hear the end of it.

"Granger?" He called out in the darkness, swinging his torch about hoping that no one else had come to assess the damage. Knowing Mural, she probably had a magical security system all over the place, alerting her to any goings on within the Manor, right down to a mouse fart. He supposed though, that no one had turned up yet, so either he was being overly paranoid, or Mural had fallen asleep listening to recordings of herself relaying historical facts, which was an actual fact he'd gleaned from the torturous times his mother had insisted he sit in on their conversations. Apparently, the old woman believed that listening to such facts in her own lilting voice, helped her remember them better.

He turned his torch to the furthest edge of the Manor gardens and froze when his beam of light highlighted a figure, who he quickly realised was Hermione. She was on her hands and knees before a great willow, cursing under her breath as she scrabbled in the dirt.

"You okay there, Granger?" He asked, ducking beneath the long finger-like branches that trailed the earth, as though protecting some hidden treasure closer to its trunk.

"It's here I know it, just…the earth is solid." Hermione wined, wincing and pulling her hands back to blow on her red raw fingers, hoping to get some life back into them.

"Shift over, Granger. You desperate to get frostbite?" Hermione gave him a curious look but shifted to the side, her mood darkening when he took out his ancestor's wand.

"You can't…"

"Don't even start," he muttered, ignoring her protests as he cast the spell. _Molliterra_ , to soften the earth or so the book of old magic had recounted. It had told the story of a great wizard who had brought down a mountain upon his enemies using such a spell. He didn't even know whether that was possible, but relieving some soil of frost was definitely possible, and he smiled as he watched the earth begin to change, pulling away soft pieces of dirt till a small bundle was revealed.

"Did you find anything?" Hermione whispered, her head on his shoulder as he pulled the package from its confines, brushing off the dirt and casually handing it to her.

"And you didn't want to use spells." He admonished, watching as she bristled at his words.

"Yes, well, forgive me for not wanting to get you expelled."

"You're forgiven." He muttered, chuckling when she flashed him an angry stare, that was almost immediately forgotten when she opened the package and sucked in a breath. Amidst the folds of materials lay two daggers, small glowing stones embossed on each of their hilts and on top a large, thick, silver ring, with a rope looped through it, as though someone once wore it as a necklace.

"What are these?" She breathed, lifting the ring up by its rope and inspecting it as it turned in the air, gutted that she could find now engraving on its surface.

"Well, these are Edwards." He placed the tip of his finger on the blade of one dagger, grimacing slightly at the cold of the metal. "They look…they look surprisingly good." He admitted, lifting one up and examining the stone.

"You think maybe – well, that's magic isn't it?" Hermione asked, tapping the surface of the glowing rock. She remembered clearly the moment Mina and Edward had shared in the lake, the light from the stone making the water glow as Edward had carried Mina to the shore. She also remembered the way Draco had looked at her afterwards, as though there was so much he wanted, needed from her. Hermione shot him a quick glance, wondering if he were thinking the same thing, torturing himself over the tiniest details of their every encounter, but to her disappointment, he seemed thoroughly taken with the knives.

"They didn't look like this before though," Draco shook his head, handing a dagger over to Hermione so that she could inspect it. "The stones, they're a new addition…well," he grinned at her, "new in the sense that they're hundreds of years old." Hermione grinned at his joke.

"I have no idea what this is for." Hermione sighed, dangling the ring in front of him.

"Could be Mina's, I mean why else would Arden bury it with Edward's knives?"

"But I don't remember Mina having it."

"Perhaps there's more for us to find out. Merlin knows we have no idea what's up the Sensieve's proverbial sleeve." Hermione sighed, nodding her head slowly as she took the ring back, hesitating on a moment before lifting the rope over her head. It sat cold and heavy against her chest, but for some reason, she found its presence almost comforting. She wondered if she should tell Draco, but thought better of it, she had no idea how to explain such a feeling, especially not as it was new and unfathomable even to her.

Draco tucked the daggers into his inside pocket, marvelling at the sheer weight of them. Edwards memories had not been a proper indicator of just how heavy the things were, especially considering that Edward seemed to sling them about as though they weighed absolutely nothing.

"I suppose we should…" Draco paused as he heard a loud rumble, turning with Hermione slowly to look at the Manor. The tower that had been leaning now carried on its journey, falling with a great crash and sending a great cloud of dust and debris up into the air. Hermione knew that she should probably run away from the destruction as fast as possible, but she was stilled by the Manor simply being a pile of stone. She couldn't help but think that this was how it was always supposed to have been, that the Manor had been meant to fall and that Arden, in his last years of life had wished desperately that it would be so.

"It's gone now," Draco commented, as though he knew Hermione's thoughts, as though he could see into the very depths of everything she felt and put words to it all. She let out a sigh that developed into a peal of laughter.

"It really is." Hermione chuckled, ignoring the fact that Draco was staring at her as though she had grown an extra head.

"I think maybe we should go, all that accumulated dust has gone to your head." She followed him as he led them back to where his broomstick had been hidden, her thoughts wandering back to when Draco had shown her what her magic looked like when he'd saved her. She knew she should thank him, should tell him just how wonderful he made her feel, but again the words just wouldn't present themselves, they jumbled about within her but wouldn't form anything remotely coherent.

"What you say, Granger?" Draco had hopped on his broom and was floating a little off the ground, looking at her expectantly.

"Huh?" Hermione had been so lost in her thoughts of not knowing what to say to him, she had completely missed everything that he had said to her.

"How about you fly us back?" He asked slowly, flying towards her as he said it.

"Are you crazy?"

"Not really, no." Draco sat back, crossing his arms and Hermione felt herself a little jealous at how casual he was about his feet not being planted firmly on the ground.

"I can't…you saw…I don't fly okay."

"Well that's what you said before but, you flew here." He gestured around them, and Hermione wanted to slap the smug look of his face.

"Yes but, you were in control you were…"

"And I still will be," he slipped back on the broomstick patting the space in front of him, "come on, Granger, you just took on stone giants and won, you can do this." She wanted to point out that he'd actually taken them on, that he'd saved her life, but she realised he was trying to help her. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to learn how to fly, there was no telling when she would need it.

"You won't let me kill us?" She asked, sitting in front of him and trying not to shiver as he pressed himself behind her.

"Not if I can help it. Relax, you're going to do great." Hermione wasn't so sure, but the timbre of Draco's voice and the way it vibrated in his chest and against her back was strangely soothing and she found that she wasn't as near fainting as she usually was when sitting on a broomstick.

He took both her hands in his and placed them against the handle, holding them tight.

"You control this thing, okay. Wherever you want to go that's where it's going and if it all goes tips up, well I'm here."

"Very comforting." She scoffed at him and he chuckled in her ear in the most delicious way, his warm breath against her skin making it very difficult to concentrate.

"Now, all we need to do is kick off, preferably without hitting any trees."

"How do I not hit the trees?" Hermione panicked, her brain kicking into gear and actively talking her out of whatever crazy thing she'd gotten herself into.

"Don't aim for them." He muttered simply, and Hermione felt like screaming at him, it wasn't that simple.

"Relax, Granger and just kick off."

"It's easy for you to say, you're like a master genius at flying," she complained, deciding she should just bite the bullet and kick off the ground, focusing on her anger and frustration as they lifted off the ground. It was only when they were quite a way up that she realised that she'd actually done it.

"Fast learner, Granger," Draco commented, his hands leaving hers to rest on her hips. The action was both sweet and thoroughly distracting. Sweet, because it was obvious he trusted her to fly and distracting because his hands were warm and big and holding her and she had to fight the urge to sink back into him.

"Yes well, I am a genius." Draco chuckled at her.

"That you are, modest too so I hear." Hermione turned her head back to him, smiling at him warmly.

"You're a good teacher too." His cheeks had gone bright red and she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from what she had said to him, "you just infuriate people to the point that they forget what they are doing."

"Well, it's an unusual method, but it does seem to work."

Hermione smiled, focusing on the warmth of him, how safe she felt with his hands gently resting on her hips, how much fun it was to poke fun at one another. For one in her life, she found herself wishing that the flight would not come to an end, that they would stay far above the clouds together.

The flight, however, did come to an end and Hermione felt sadness settling on her shoulders. The church clock told her it was eleven and she should probably get back. Ginny hadn't summoned her back, but she knew the red-head would be worrying about her. She knew all this and yet she turned to Draco and realised that she didn't want to leave him just yet. This time with him was so nice, he was just so kind and so like she knew that he could be that she wished she could stop time and keep them both there.

"Do you want to come for a drink?" Hermione quickly asked, biting her bottom lip when he turned to her, eyes wide.

"What?" He tipped his head as though he thought he'd misheard.

"Well, my parents and I we have this Christmas tradition where we got to the tall man and…well it is Christmas Eve and – well did you want to come."

Draco didn't know what to do with himself. Hermione Granger was asking him out for a drink, and he was physically having to stop himself doing the weird little dance that Theo always did when he got his own way.

"Yeah er…sure. I'll just…" He turned to survey the area, noticing a small archway that acted as an entrance to the graveyard. Casually he wandered over and placed his broomstick under the arch and headed back towards her, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Well, Granger, lead the way."

Mr Gregory, as far back as Hermione could remember, was famous for his Christmas parties, taking the time of year and everything to do with it, very seriously. The tall man bedecked the outside of his pub in as many lights as was realistically viable, without shorting out the entire village, wrapped tinsel round bannisters, beams chair and table legs and sometimes even patrons that had fallen into a drunken stupor and had not moved for a while. He hung baubles and boughs of holly off every available hook and positioned sprigs of mistletoe over doorways and tables, encouraging all patrons to get into the Christmas Spirit and partake in some good old traditions. It was a village-wide knowledge that on Christmas Eve, The Tall Man was the place to be.

Hermione had always enjoyed spending her Christmases there with her family, the only time of the year when the pub didn't petrify her. They would take a board game and her father would throw back pints of ale with abandon till his cheeks glowed and the room was filled with his hearty laugh. Her mother would sip gin and tonics and pull Hermione up to the dance floor, twirling her around to all the Christmas hits, singing them thoroughly out of tune and at the top of her lungs.

Mr Gregory had always hired the same band every year – 'Santa's Little Helpers – and though the band members seemed on constant rotation – so much so that there was no a single original member that remained – they always seemed to be pretty good. There had been one potentially disastrous year when the head elf (or lead singer) had got stupendously drunk and flopped into the crowd mid-set. The locals, however, having heard the collection of songs in the same order for some good many years, jumped to the rescue and took turn yodelling through each well-known number.

Hermione smiled to herself, glancing quickly at Draco's profile, she wondered whether he would actually enjoy it, she supposed that an evening spent at a small pokey pub in the middle of a village was hardly how Malfoy's usually celebrated their Christmases, but she wondered whether that would actually matter to him. She squashed all her worries, opening the door to the pub and smiling to herself at the familiar smell and din that greeted her. The fragrance of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts hung heavy on the air, brief notes of the ale that her father like to knock back, which she knew was a village favourite. Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas was being played, the notes cutting through conversation, laughter and the various off-key renditions of the same song, that people were singing to each other, arms slung over shoulders. Santa's Little Helpers had opted for two head elves, a man and a woman harmonising beautifully, matching green hats with giant elf ears sewn to the side of them.

Hermione moved quickly through the crowd toward the bar, glancing back every few seconds to check that Draco was still with her. She didn't know why she was worrying so much, Malfoy had been to a pub before now, heck she'd seen him in the Newts Tail and that was somewhat of a dive compared to Mr Gregory's place. She guessed though she had never seen how muggles acted during Christmas and from the look on his face, witnessing the spectacle was a real eye-opener.

Hermione finally made it to the bar, placing her elbows on the sticky dark wood and smiling up at Mr Gregory who had a Santa's hat sitting lopsidedly on his head. From the general glazed look in his eyes, Hermione guessed that he had been supping quite a lot of the mulled wine himself. It was put on every year and hardly anyone drank it, except of course for Mr Gregory.

"Ah, Hermione Granger if my memory serves me correct." Mr Gregory pointed at her and she smiled, feeling a glowing sort of warmth rather than the usual nerves she suffered from in his presence, "what can I get for you and your friend." Mr Gregory had turned his attention to Draco who was still glancing around the room, a look of mild amusement on his face as two men stumbled past, their arms slung around each other, tinsel wrapped around both of their heads. He thought that in actual fact the pub looked a little like the Slytherin Common room, right after the Slytherin games.

"Er…two pints of your finest ale?" She asked sweetly. Mr Gregory gave her a smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he poured their drinks, plopping it them down in front of her and waving away her attempt at giving him any money.

"Tis Christmas, enjoy," Hermione asked for a bowl of roasted chestnuts and insisted on paying for these, pressing the money into Mr Gregory's large palm with a determined look on her face. The large man laughed amusedly, and Draco cut in, giving Hermione a withering glance.

"I'd do as she says, she's not going to back down." Hermione knew that he was making fun but the fact that he knew that about her made her feel a little happy. She turned away from the bar lifting her head a little with pride and weaved her way through around the tables and other patrons till she found a cosy two-seater up the corner. Such tables were never really used at that time as many of the people that lived nearby came in large groups, walking in together and later stumbling home together.

"Well, this is nice," Draco commented, surveying the room before meeting Hermione's eyes, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"You think?" She asked, nervously taking a sip of her ale, hastily wiping her top lip to remove the froth.

"Yeah, it's…" He seemed to struggle to find the right word, lifting his glass up to hover in front of his lips, "it reminds me of the Slytherin parties." He took a sip of his drink, eyes lighting up at the taste, nodding his head in appreciation. Hermione watched as he licked his top lip, removing the froth that had gathered there, it was distracting, to say the least. She quickly cleared her throat and leant forward.

"You guys have parties?"

"Every now and again. Most of us hate each other but, well sometimes you can get us in the same room and we can have a good time." Hermione smirked, thinking about the Gryffindor common room. The number of arguments and bitching that had gone on in there was unbelievable. She realised that things like that were less to do with the houses they were sorted into and more just to do with people. How many times had she pondered over who Lavender Brown had to bribe in order to be sorted into Gryffindor?

"You come here with your parents?" Draco asked, he was getting through his pint quite quickly and Hermione quickly took a sip of her own.

"Every year usually. We take it in turns to pick a board game then we bring it here and play it. It's nice really, sometimes people join in and it all gets a bit messy, but it's always fun." Hermione blushed when she realised that Draco was staring at her, an unfathomable emotion in his grey eyes. He seemed to catch himself, coughing briefly and scratching the back of his head, averting his gaze to a woman who was trying her best to dance in obscenely high heels.

"So, what about you?" Hermione asked, gripping her pint glass in both hands, the Christmas lights above their heads shimmering in the amber liquid.

"What about me?'

"What do you have planned for Christmas?"

"Oh, I'd say the usual, Mom will invite everyone who's anyone around our house and it will all be very civilised and ultimately boring." He muttered, wiping the condensation off his glass with his finger.

"Will…will Daphne be there?" Hermione asked, hoping that her question didn't sound obvious, but knowing all too well that it probably did.

"I'd imagine so, her mother and mine are really good friends. They like to drink sherry and talk about 'important' things." Hermione nodded slowly not really sure she wanted to hear the answer to the next question but asking it anyway.

"Isn't Daphne angry that you aren't spending Christmas Eve with her?" Draco's brow furrowed.

"Why?"

"Well, admittedly I don't know much about relationships, but don't you usually spend the holidays together?" Draco smirked at her question.

"I suppose, but I'm here aren't I." Hermione supposed it was a valid answer, but for some reason, it still annoyed her. she couldn't understand why he would be reluctant to talk about something that she guessed must be important to him, "besides, she broke up with me."

Hermione thought she must have misheard, spluttering over her ale and looking at him wide-eyed.

"What?" Hermione swallowed, feeling somewhat guilty about the swell of hope within her.

"We broke up." Draco took another sip, tapping his fingers on the wood of the table along with 'Santa's Little Helpers' rendition of jingle bells.

"But why?"

"She likes someone else." Draco shrugged, and Hermione searched his face for any sign of sadness. She guessed that he must have been hiding it behind his usual mask of indifference as she couldn't detect anything.

"Oh Malfoy, I'm so sorry," Hermione mumbled, tipping her head to the side and fighting back the urge to reach across and hold his hand in hers.

"Don't be, me and Daphne we-we wouldn't have worked anyway."

"Don't say that." Hermione admonished, not wholly believing it herself.

"Why not, it's true."

A rather drunk couple stumbled over to their table, the woman pausing when she saw them, leaning across their table and grinning at them both.

"Awww, Trev this is so sweet, they are on a date." She pointed a red fingernail at each of them in turn and Hermione blushed, opening her mouth to correct her, but before she could the man swooped in, a grin on his round face.

"Leave them Mel, its Christmas."

"But its soooo sweet and look they're under the mistletoe." Hermione followed the woman's gaze her eyes widening in horror when she noticed that there was in fact mistletoe above their heads. Both she and Draco looked at each other and instantly looked away. Mel had slung her arm over Draco's shoulder, grinning across at Hermione.

"You have to kiss her, it's tradition."

"Mel, come on, leave the kids alone." Trev, as he was referred to, mercifully saved them by dragging Mel away, waving a glass of wine under her nose as a distraction that blessedly seemed to work.

They were both silent for a while refusing to look at each other. Hermione felt a little better that she wasn't the only was who was bright red, Draco's cheeks had taken on a pink hue as he looked across at her and cleared his throat.

"It's a stupid tradition." Hermione nodded but couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She mentally scoffed at herself, wondering what she'd actually imagined would happen; that he of all people would lean across and kiss her and finally realise that all this time he had secretly liked her.

"Yeah, stupid." Hermione clarified, taking another sip of her drink, watching as Draco drained his own and stood.

"You want another one, Granger?" She nodded at him, fishing out some money and handing it to him.

"No Granger, I've got this." He muttered, quickly shoving it back in her hands and disappearing off to the bar before she could remind him that muggle pubs didn't take Galleons. She figured it wouldn't matter too much though, Mr Gregory was obviously apart of the magical world and she guessed he would wave off the money anyway, being wonderfully sozzled and feeling particularly generous given the time of year.

Draco was back in no time, placing a pint in front of her and quickly taking a large gulp of his own. He seemed nervous and she wondered if it was being around lots of muggles. Before she could follow the line of questioning the band struck up again and she grinned.

"Oh, I love this song." She beamed, turning in her seat to look at the corner where the band were tucked away. " _It was Christmas eve, babe_."

"Granger what are you doing?"

" _In the drunk tank._ Singing, what's it sound like?" She began swaying along with the music, turning to Draco a glint in her eye that made him gulp.

"What?"

"Dance with me?"

"Er no." Draco looked away and took another long gulp of ale, hoping that the matter was closed.

"Come on, it's Christmas."

"Doesn't matter the time of year, I don't dance." The music got louder, and Hermione squirmed in her seat. It was her favourite song and there was no way she wasn't going to dance to it.

"Please?" She all but begged and Draco sighed, plonking his pint down loudly and standing.

"Fine, but you tell anyone about this…"

"I know, hexes will ensue, don't worry your secret is safe with me." She chirped, pulling him towards the dance floor, twirling to the music.

He moved surprisingly well which she found shocking, expecting his lack of enthusiasm to be more to do with his inability to dance. He chuckled at her as she sang the words at him.

" _You're a bum, you're a punk, you're an old slut on junk."_

"Wow, Granger are you just finding an excuse to insult me?"

"They're the words."

"Sure, they are."

" _Happy Christmas, your arse I pray God it's our last."_ Draco dragged her closer, his arms around her waist, palm splayed on her lower back as he grinned at her. _"The boys of the NYPD choir, still singing 'Galway Bay'."_

" _And the bells are ringing out for Christmas Day."_ His singing was more like a low rumble, but it made her giddy with happiness.

" _Can't make it all alone, I've built my dreams around you."_ Hermione sang it while looking right into Draco's eyes, realising that slowly but surely she was building all her dreams around their adventures, around their time together. As she swayed to the rest of the song she realised that she had never quite felt that way about Harry or Ron and at that moment she didn't want to. It was for her and Draco and always would be.

The walk back to the Graveyard was a slow one with Draco relieving the funniest moments of the evening, doing a spookily accurate impression of Trev's drunk dancing. Eventually, their laughter died, and he smiled down at her, his grey eyes looking the tiniest bit silver.

"Thanks for inviting me, Granger, it was surprisingly fun."

"Surprisingly?" Hermione exclaimed in mock hurt.

"Well, you know I haven't had the best opinion of muggles over the years, but I've got to say, they know how to celebrate."

"Yes, some would argue that they take it too far."

"Pshhh, those types of people wouldn't know fun if it hit them round their head."

"I can't help but agree," Hermione muttered, thinking that she'd possibly had one too many pints, feeling a little giddy in the cool air. "That's twice I've got drunk with you." She said it to herself more so than him, but Draco laughed loudly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.

"Well, I am a bad influence."

Hermione would have always believed that the statement was true, but he had encouraged her to do things she never would have imagined herself doing, especially flying.

"You're an influence, I'll give you that, the jury's still out on whether it's bad or not."

"Well, you'll have to let me know how that hearing goes."

"You'll be the first," Hermione assured him, stopping beneath the arch, leaning back against the wood. Draco dug his hands in his pockets and kicked at the snow beneath his feet before speaking.

"I've erm…I've actually got you something."

"What?" Hermione gasped, berating herself for not getting him anything.

"Well I got you something for Christmas, you know, it's tradition to give presents this time of year."

"Ugh I know, don't remind me."

"You okay there, Granger?"

"Yes, it's just I didn't get you anything." Hermione covered her face with her hands groaning into them. She'd been so worried about making sure she wasn't caught sneaking out that she'd completely forgotten to buy anything for him.

"Well, I will remind you of your lack of thought at every given opportunity," Draco commented drily, and Hermione groaned again. "Seriously, Granger it's fine. Let's just call us even for Easter." Hermione peeked at him from over the top of her fingers.

"Really?"

"Yeah now, will you take this?" He held out a small package wrapped rather haphazardly in red paper. Hermione took it gently, opening it slowly. It was a book and she gasped when she opened the cover and Hogwarts a History was written in cursive writing.

"It's er…one of the original drafts, it has the authors notes all the way through it." Hermione flicked through the pages opening and closing her mouth as she saw the small neat notes that the author had made, bits that hadn't even made it into the actual book. "I thought I'd seen something like it in our library, and well I was right." Hermione could tell he was nervous and that she should probably say something, but words were failing her.

She went to look up, but something fell into her hands. The owl glinted gold as it dangled on the end of its chain and Hermione gasped again.

"This is, this is my necklace."

"I found it, the day after we fell down, you know…I thought about giving it back, but it never seemed, I don't know, right I guess." He shrugged, and Hermione looked up at him, tears glimmering in her eyes.

"Malfoy these are, you have seriously upscaled the gift giving." She chuckled, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him.

"Yeah well, we Malfoy's don't do things by half." Hermione pulled away and looked down at the presents again, shaking her head.

"Honestly, these are…thank you."

"You are very welcome, Granger." They were silent for a while and then Draco cleared his throat. "I should, I should probably get going." Hermione was disappointed, but she realised he was probably right, it was getting late and she needed to get back to Grimmauld Place. "I had fun toni..." He commented, freezing when he looked up above them.

"What's the matter?" Hermione followed his gaze and her breath caught in the back of her throat. There was another sprig of mistletoe dangling between them. Hermione gulped looking at Draco uncomfortably, choosing to mirror his words.

"It's just a stupid tradition." She chuckled, hoping that they could laugh it off and then she could sink into the despair of liking someone who had no interest in her.

"Yeah," he was looking at her seriously leaning a little closer, "stupid." The kiss was gentle, his hands remaining by his side as his lips covered hers, lingering there for a few moments before he pulled away.

"Merry Christmas, Granger." The words were breathed across her lips, making them tingle and she desperately willed him to kiss her again, her heart sinking when he reached for his broomstick, stepping away from her. She shook her head moving to follow him, she wouldn't let it end that way. As if reading her thoughts he turned, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"There was that Mistletoe at the pub, so I figure by that recko…" Hermione didn't give him chance to finish, tugging on the lapels of his coat and bringing his lips to hers. The broomstick thudded to the ground and Hermione was vaguely aware of the crunch of their feet in the snow as he backed her up and pressed her against the archway, tipping his head and opening his mouth against hers. Her fingers clutched at his hair that was so wonderfully soft as she held him to her, hoping that this was real, hoping that it wasn't some cruel trick.

"This - this one's you?" She muttered, completely breathless, his lips inches from hers pulling into a small smile.

"It's always been me." He was searching her eyes, the tip of his nose bumping against hers gently.

"What do you…"

"Shut up, Granger." He murmured and for once she listened to him because he was kissing her again and she absolutely didn't want it to stop, silently thanking God for stupid traditions.


	74. Finally

Sorry, it has taken me so long to update, have been mega busy, I know no excuse right. I hope you enjoy this chapter, not sure about a lot of things in it but here you go. Thanks so much for all the reviews and follows once again. I hope you enjoy and more will be following soon.

* * *

 _Finally_ , it was a mantra in his head as he once again slid his mouth over Hermione's and got a good long taste of that bottom lip that she'd been chewing so damn much in his company. He wasn't surprised to find that it tasted amazing; ale and chestnuts and – he was almost certain – remnants of melting snowflakes that cooled even as her closeness warmed him. The best kind of Christmas.

The owl bounced against the back of his head as she tugged him closer, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised by her taking control, each tug of his hair demanding more from him and he gave gladly, shaking hands moving up to unbutton her coat with infuriating slowness. He grumbled obscenities against her lips; small complaints about the sheer amount layers she'd chosen to wear, the fact that she'd decided to button her coat up all the way to the top with no thought to the bloke who was trying to get her out of it. Hermione smirked against his complaints hardly giving him time to breathe before she was pressing her lips back on his, the patterns her tongue traced enough to make his legs wobble.

"Malfoy." She gasped his name as his hands finally found their way inside her coat and circled her waist. He swore that his name had never sounded so good, worth all the damn lectures he'd received from his father about its importance. It was important that he hear her say it again, just like that. He pulled her closer to him, a groan escaping him at the eruption of magic around each and every connection. He blinked past the haze of dizziness, brought back to reality by the icy metal of the owl slipping down the back of his coat and pressing against his skin as Hermione adjusted her grip on his neck. Her other hand pushed needily against his shoulder for leverage, priceless book still gripped in her fingers, all but totally forgotten. Draco felt his chest puffing with a certain amount of pride that he, of all people, had made Hermione Granger forget about a book, her favourite book at that.

A small whimper emanated from her throat and Draco was certain he would melt, ripping his mouth from hers and leaving a trail of open-mouthed adoration down the pale skin of her neck that had been teasing him all night. She gasped again, her fingernails digging into his skin, head thudding against the wooden arch as she tipped her head back.

"Ow." He glanced up at her with concern and Hermione sucked in a breath at the sight that met her. She wasn't sure it was possible for Draco Malfoy to look so good, but he did; hair all tousled, cheeks and lips the reddest she had ever seen them, eyes a vibrant grey and chest rising and falling quickly in pants as he searched her face. She had done that to him, she had made him look like that, all thrown off and imperfect but so wonderfully handsome that she just couldn't seem to get any air in her lungs.

"You okay?" His voice was gruff and deep, words hardly more than a whisper in the air, she nodded lifting her hand to rub the back of her head, the owl hitting her in the face reminding her of where they were, why they were there in the first place.

"Yeah, I just…" Draco watched Hermione search the ground for her words, wondering how such a crazy mane of hair could look so utterly out of place but still somehow be the most desperately attractive things he'd ever seen. Hermione Bookworm Granger definitely looked her best all ruffled and thoroughly kissed and he decided it was his solemn duty to keep her that way at all times, regardless of the slaps he would have to endure. She looked up at him suddenly, her brown eyes wide with wonder, in a way that made him feel incredibly naked. As if she could see right into the very heart of him, right down to all the messy feelings he had for her. Luckily for him at that moment his thumb found its way under the extortionate number of layers that she'd worn and grazed the soft skin of her hip. She sucked in a sudden breath, pupils blown wide and lips parting in the most inviting way.

He smirked at her reaction, leaning down and delicately kissing her neck, opening his hand and spaying it against her warm back, fingertips tracing his name there as he murmured to her.

"Is this where you start asking questions?"

"I don't…I'm not…" Draco grinned as her sentence tapered off to a sigh, both hands gripping his shoulders as his other hand found its way underneath all her sweaters and joined in the merry job of making Hermione melt.

"Merlin, why did I wait so long to do this?" His forehead pressed against hers as he muttered his question into the space between them, instantly regretting it as Hermione's eyes widened and her face filled with a determination that he knew preceded questioning on par with the Spanish Inquisition.

"So long?"

"Figure of speech, Granger." He quickly answered, desperately trying to press his lips onto hers, only to have her move her head away. He shrugged, moving back to her neck, grumbling in frustration when she pushed at his shoulders.

"No, it wasn't, what do you mean?" He sighed and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets and refusing to look at her. Kissing her was good, being pressed up against her and feeling the wealth of soft skin she had to offer was fantastic, this whole talking about feelings was not. He had prepared himself for such an eventuality and he'd promised himself that he would duck out and lie through is back teeth if such an occasion were to occur. But now that he was stood before her, all the tell-tale signs of their kiss still lingering in the shade of her lips, the state of her hair and clothes, he found himself resigned to telling the truth.

"What do you think it means?" piteously hanging onto the hope that evasion might work.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." He would have appreciated how wonderfully Slytherin-like she'd countered him if it wasn't for how uncomfortable he felt. How he managed to find someone who enjoyed talking about their feelings so much attractive was beyond him.

"Let's just say, for argument's sake, that I've been thinking about this," he gestured between them, "for a long time."

"How long?"

"I don't know, how longs a wand?" Hermione gave him a disapproving glare and turned away clenching his jaw as the words crammed into his mouth and he tried to keep them locked away. "There was ice cream involved."

It took a moment for his words to register and even longer for Hermione to work out what exactly it meant. When she did her eyes became somehow wider, her mouth dropping open in shock as Draco eyed her uncomfortably, his mask of indifference falling into place a little, however lopsided.

"That long?"

"Yeah well," he cleared his throat, "insert witty comment here." He muttered it sardonically and flushed.

"I can't…so that first kiss?" Draco's head lowered, running his hand over his face. He knew she would bring it up, that was just the way she was. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at her.

"Yes."

"But you…why did you…you ran away."

"You didn't exactly react well to it." He muttered, kicking the snow at his feet.

"But I didn't understand."

"Yeah well, now you do."

"Now I do." Hermione clarified, smiling at him and making his heart hurt a little in his chest. "But what about, Daphne?"

"What about her?" Hermione sighed in exasperation, placing her hands on her hips.

"Why did you go out with her if you didn't like her?"

"That was someone's bright idea to make me forget about you."

"That's terrible."

"I know, who in Merlin's name thought that could work." Hermione blushed at his words.

"That's not what I meant." She admonished half-heartedly.

"I know, but its true."

"What about Snape?" Draco's brow furrowed in confusion, wondering why she was bringing up all these people right at that very moment when all he could think about was continuing where they left off. "You said that he couldn't see us together, why is that?"

Draco's face fell. He thought that this would change everything, that he would finally shake off the doubt and just be with Hermione, but he knew now that he couldn't. everything that had been reason enough before was still a reason now.

"I can't tell you that, Granger." He closed his eyes, preparing for the onslaught of questions, of admonishments but froze when they never came. He opened his eyes a little, squinting at Hermione who was looking at him curiously, her lips pressed into a thin line, so many questions glimmering in her brown eyes. He wondered if she was going to ask them all.

"You said that, if…if you could tell me you would." Draco nodded, "and…I can't believe I'm saying this…I trust you." Draco felt his heart swell at those words, breath catching in his throat. Had he ever really had anyone trust him? Had it ever really meant so much to him? He supposed he had gotten so used to people assuming that his Slytherin nature would always win out that he'd given up on the hope that anyone would even slightly find it within themselves to trust him.

"That's a bad idea, Granger." He joked, hoping she didn't hear how his voice cracked.

"Probably." She grinned, placing the book and necklace on the wooden slats that jutted out the side of the arch to form a small bench. She turned to him, stepping forward and gently fingering the lapels of his coat. "Promise me something?"

"Depends on what I'm promising." His voice was gruff as he looked down at her. he shivered as her fingers brushed aside the collar of his shirt and danced across his neck. She frowned at his statement, but he could see her fighting back a smile.

"Promise me that, when you can tell me, whatever it is, that you will." Draco grinned at her, slipping his arms around her waist and tugging her back against him.

"I think I can manage that."

"If you don't, I may have to hit you again." He leaned closer, smiling at the absurdity of it all, the giddiness of happiness that seemed to be shifting and growing inside of him, making him feel so powerful and, at the same time, so shudderingly small and out of his depth.

"You never know, Granger, I might enjoy it." She closed the gap this time and he let himself fall back against the archway, his hands once again working their way to feel her skin, gripping her hips and tugging at them desperately till they felt as though they could have been melding into one person.

" _Lumos_." The tiny voice shattered the silence around them and Draco pulled back slightly, searching Hermione's face in confusion.

"Was that an involuntary reaction or…"

"Oh crap, Ginny." Hermione spat, moving away from him and kneeling down to fumble in her bag. Draco's confusion only increased when she pulled out a toy; a tiny wizard popping up out of a box, his little hands waving in the air.

"What's the ginger got to do with anything?" Hermione cut her eyes at him but quickly turned back to the toy.

"She's my lookout." Draco quickly glanced around, wondering if one of the Weasley clan was, in fact, hiding somewhere, watching everything they were doing. The thought made him just a tad uncomfortable.

"Lookout for what?" The little wizard suddenly popped back into the box and Hermione let out a sigh of relief, pushing it back into her bag and rising to her feet.

"Remember I said my parents were going away for Christmas," Draco nodded slowly, "well they did, and I convinced them that staying with Ron and his family would be better, because of all the work I had to do." Draco was about to ask why she did that, but his brain caught up and he noticed the dark blush on her cheeks. She had done it for him so that she could sneak away and meet him. Sure, he supposed a lot of it had to do with the fact that she wanted to find more things about the past, but he hoped a little bit of it was her want to see him again. "So, I've been staying with them and I…"

"Had to sneak out to meet me." Hermione nodded and Draco grinned, running the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip.

'You're such a Slytherin, Granger."

"I beg to differ."

"I know you do, doesn't stop it from being true though." He paused, frowning at her, "How in Merlin's name did you get here? I imagine the Weasley's don't exactly live walking distance from here."

"Well no." Hermione looked a bit sheepish.

"What?"

"Well I'd have to show you."

"Show me what?" He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, laughing when she smacked him half-heartedly.

She packed her book and necklace away in her bag before gesturing for Draco to follow her as she headed towards the church. Draco hesitated only a moment before shrugging and stooping down to pick up his broomstick, smiling slightly when he thought about how it had got there.

"You er…mind explaining a little here, Granger." He mumbled as Hermione stopped at the large dark doors to the church, raising her fist to the wood before turning back to look at him.

"Durie."

"What now?" Hermione knocked the door three times, opening the door slightly and stepping through the gap, reaching to tug at Draco's sleeve and yank him through too. She almost chuckled when she watched a look of wonder descend on Draco's face. She knew how he felt, seeing Durie's home for the first time had been a shock for her too and she'd had somewhat of a warning with seeing the outside of it, seeing Durie herself.

"Wasn't quite what I was expecting." He mumbled to her drily and Hermione covered her mouth, stifling a rather embarrassing giggle.

Durie floated around the corner in all her ethereal beauty and Hermione found herself suddenly swallowing the panic of Draco seeing her and being instantly enthralled, as all the Weasley boys seemed to have been on their last visit. She realised her worry was stupid, Durie was ancient, as old as the ring that rested against her heart, as old as the daggers in Draco's coat. But she was still beautiful, and she noticed that Draco's mouth had dropped open slightly at the sight of her.

"Your friend, Hermione? I'm thrilled that you brought him to visit me. She wasn't too late, was she?" She asked, taking Draco's hand in hers and smiling at him warmly, her eyes seeming to see so much more than just his face. Draco found himself drawing away a little, certain that the strange and beautiful woman was finding out everything she needed to know about him, flitting through his thoughts and memories in the same way Snape had in his first experience of Occlumency.

"No, not too late." He managed to mutter, turning to Hermione for some help.

"You have the scent of history about you, of earth and ice and the past." She looked at his coat and the string around Hermione's neck a small secret smile curving her lips.

"I…we found a lot about old magic, about what happened to witches and wizards." Durie held up her hand to silence Hermione, shaking her head slowly.

"If I could know everything I would, I'd fill up my head with all the nonsenses of the world. Unfortunately, such stories are not mine to know, but they are yours, so you should keep them. Both of you."

"Who are you?" Draco asked suddenly, his eyes still wide and bewildered. Durie let out a laugh that was so bright and melodic that Hermione almost winced at its perfection. She wondered why she felt so insecure, so imperfect next to Durie. She had not felt this way the first time they had met.

"My name is Durie and I am many things, old being one of them."

"Right," Draco muttered suspiciously, shifting ever closer to Hermione, their shoulders bumping, the Sensieves' magic sparking between them.

Durie clasped her hands together in front of her, tipping her head, new vines twisting around her hair, small silver and gold flowers blooming here and there.

"You remind me so much of them. Ah how the world works, this and that happening, magic linking it all." She clapped her hands happily and Draco frowned at her.

"Like them?"

"Oh, you must see." She waved her hand for them to follow and Draco looked nervously at Hermione.

"Where in Merlin's name have you brought me now?"

"It's fine, she's pretty awesome."

"Pretty crazy, Granger."

"She knew Mina and Edward."

"What?"

"Just…just come and see." Hermione almost jumped when he slipped his hand into hers, interlocking their fingers as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I get turned into anything nasty, I'm holding you responsible." He muttered, letting her lead him.

It wasn't that Draco hadn't known his fair share of weird and wonderful magic, Merlin, he'd grown up with it being the commonplace, the every day. But Durie wasn't that, her magic felt like so much more, so much heavier and powerful. It was unnerving. He was almost jealous of Hermione, all magic was new and exciting to her, and so the feeling of Durie's home, of the strange being herself didn't seem to frighten her. It was the same with the magic back at Arden's vault; sure, the light show he'd put on for her had been beautiful, there was no doubt, but underneath all that there was a raw power that never ceased to tie a knot of fear in his stomach. When he'd looked at Hermione though, there was not a trace of that fear, only pure delight, only the wide-eyed innocence of seeing something so perfect and wonderful for the very first time. The sight of her amidst the light had been so breath-taking that he'd found himself ashamed of his own fear and now, he once again he felt it; that sinking shame that, while Hermione ventured forward bravely, he stumbled after all the while wishing he could cower back and away.

Durie stood before a trunk of a tree, glancing down fondly at a picture existed in perfect clarity on its surface.

"My mother wed these two. A ring to bind their love." She reached out pulled at the string around Hermione's neck. The ring popped up into view and Durie cradled it in her palm. "There was such love. Simple silver and not a touch of magic, but she looked at it as if the world resided in its centre. Ah, and what a world."

"You knew them?" Durie grinned happily at Draco's question, nodding her head so vigorously that gold dust seemed to shake from the flowers blooming on her head.

"My mother married them, and I blessed them. When I first met Hermione here there was just a hint of something around her, Old magic just shimmering about her, but now…now I see that you both have the past within and without. Tis a pleasure to see, it's been so long."

Draco wondered whether Hermione was getting much sense from Durie's words, though said with such delight and joy they were a jumble of nonsense.

"You blessed them?" Hermione asked, leaning forward expectantly.

"I bound their souls. Love should always be that deep, be that real and lasting. My mother always spoke such words and I believed them, though I've never experienced such things myself. I wanted to give it to them though and with him having no magic to speak of, well it was only right that I help." Hermione gripped his hand turning to him with wide eyes.

"That's how Arden made the Sensieve if he had Mina's soul and she was bound to Edward…"

"Then both their memories…" Hermione nodded, and Draco's heart ached at the pure delight in her eyes, he wondered if he could keep that look there forever because she looked beautiful and happy.

"Such stories, such tales, can I interest you in a spot of tea?"

Hermione actually looked genuinely upset as she answered.

"I'm afraid I've got to get back, it's late and Ginny has been looking out for me. Not sure how long she will manage to keep people away."

"Say no more, Grimmauld Place is it not." Hermione felt herself freeze as Durie said those words, feeling her chest tighten. She knew she shouldn't have met Draco, he might have been innocent, had no part to play in any nefarious plot, but his father did and now Draco had the name of where they were hiding.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Draco turned to her and she searched his face for lies and deceit. Maybe he wanted to walk with her, so he could find out where the Order was hiding once and for all, report back and finally be accepted into the ranks of death eaters.

But his face was so honest, his grey eyes full of insecurities and hope, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand as he held it gently. Everything about the way he was, told her that it was just for her, there was no other reason or hidden meaning, everything was just for her.

"To the end of the alleyway." She could have screamed at herself, very nearly did. Nothing was worth jeopardizing The Order, absolutely nothing, except maybe having him look her like that for just a few seconds longer, except maybe having him kiss her again as he had before.

"Alleyways again, Granger?" His one eyebrow rose, and Hermione blushed as she thought of the last alleyway they'd been down, the insinuation of what they'd been doing and the fact that she hoped they would actually be doing something similar for real this time.

"Well, it's this door when you're ready. Stop by at any time." Durie held the front door open and Hermione hugged her goodbye, stepping out into the cool air, Draco's hand still in hers.

They hadn't made it that far down the alleyway before Draco had pressed her against the wall, his mouth swallowing her protests. Hermione gave in, weaving her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes. Draco wondered how a kiss could taste even better, but it did, it really did. He lifted her leg, fingers digging into her thigh as he pressed right against her, very nearly seeing stars at how good it all felt, how much there was to feel.

"I want to see you again, soon." He muttered gruffly, and Hermione nodded.

"We could meet at Durie's. Knock three times and think of her." Draco nudged her scarf and coat out the way, nibbling on her collarbone gently, smirking when she gasped and pressed her hips against his.

"Tomorrow." He managed to choke and was surprised when Hermione simply nodded, tugging his head so his lips once again aligned with hers.

Pulling away was difficult, walking back towards Durie's house was even harder. When he finally made it out into the graveyard, after persuading the strange creature that was Durie that he needed to fly back for his own sanity, he realised that one very specific problem was going to make it difficult to fly. It did, but somehow, he managed it, the cold air calming him eventually.

He floated down the corridor of Malfoy Manor, opening and closing his bedroom door without really registering the movement. He could still feel the outline of her lips and he traced the brand with his fingertip, smiling softly to himself. He slumped back against the door and allowed himself to sink to the ground blinking at the small unicorn that had been woken from his slumber and, in his own way, appeared to be scowling moodily across the room. Draco chuckled at him and then at the whole evening, the whole magical, wonderful evening that had flown by at an astonishing rate but at the same time had felt as though they'd crossed years. He supposed they had in their own way, jumping as they had into the past and drawing together in spite of everything they'd been through.

He sucked in a shaky breath when his stomach knotted with how awesome and scary it all was. With shaking fingers, he took out his ancestors' wand and stared at it. It wasn't that he didn't know, he did, but the evidence, the proof…

He focused on his memory of the evening, the feel of her skin, her sighs ghosting his ear.

"Expecto Patronum." Blue light burst out the end of the wand and flew through the air, thoroughly scaring the unicorn, until he was forced to retreat behind a stack of books, his whole little body shaking. The glittering light told him all he needed to know and when the small otter sat at his feet, coking its head to one side, he grinned at it, because there it was.

And he'd known, as soon as the thought, the feeling had settled within him when she'd been surrounded by all that light and magic; as soon as she'd pointed her own magic out to her, he'd known, everything else that evening had just solidified it. Clarified it. Till that was all that remained in his mind, all that was felt, all that he wanted to feel.

He was in love with Hermione Granger.


	75. Rumblings

Once again I really have to apologise for leaving this for so long. I have been really busy with Uni work and obviously Christmas, but I promise I haven't given up on this so no matter how slow updates become there will always be more. Thanks so much for all the reviews, they are really awesome. Hope you enjoy this chapter, not really sure about it, not much happens, but I promise the next chapter won't be as boring. Thanks so much to everyone who has stuck with this and carries on reading, means so much to me. :)

* * *

Narcissa allowed herself a moment of pride having yet again outdone her last Christmas party. Every year she began her plans with the certainty that nothing could surpass what she had already done, but every year she proved herself wrong. She was even more surprised to find that 'outdoing' herself meant holding back a little, opting for the understated Christmas décor that spoke of a small family Christmas spent in front of the fire. The fact that anything so traditional and simplistic could alight such delight on the faces of her guests was something she had not expected, especially not guests of their calibre.

Everyone knew the Malfoy's did Christmas, it was an indisputable fact among the upper echelon of their society. Christmas held no special meaning for Narcissa specifically, being much like any other time of year in her household, but when all the other witches had begun commandeering holidays for their lavish and incredibly exclusive parties, she had gone straight for the holiday jugular and claimed the seasonal celebration that they'd all been tip-toeing around. Of course, there had been complaints, Christmas being a time of year for family and visitations from distant cousins who could not, under any circumstance, be left to their own devices on such a 'special day'. Narcissa's replies to all of these had been 'the more the merrier' a sickly-sweet smile curving her lips to keep herself from hexing their fake concern right off their snotty faces. She'd got her own back though, practically wriggling with glee when said distant cousins gushed over what they described as the best Christmas they'd ever experienced, wondering if they could possibly come again.

Years on and she was looking over a sea of people all gathered because the news of her parties had spread and become the 'must attend' of the season. There were people who were vying for invitations as soon as the new year came around, desperate to be considered as one of the elites, suitable enough to attend such a grand event.

"Narcissa my dear, absolutely riveting. Every year you leave me spellbound." Talia Zabini stated, opening her arms wide as she gracefully swept forward and kissed both Narcissa's cheeks, her sweet perfume floating delicately in the air around them. It was her own recipe, a secret concoction that the beautiful woman would never reveal. Narcissa would have been inclined to believe that something in the scent was designed to enthral all that smelt it if it weren't for the fact that Talia was devastatingly gorgeous: dark flawless skin, sharp green eyes and lips plump and pouty. Her every move was of such grace and poise that it seemed as though she were dancing, twirling through crowds as though every space were a ballroom and every sound music. Everyone loved her, and those that didn't were soon brought round by mere seconds of conversation.

"Such wonderful touches and so subtle this year." Talia gushed, receiving approving looks from huddles of guests, before they went back to their conversations, no doubt turning to the topic of how beautifully turned out Mrs Zabini always managed to be, even after the tragic losses she had faced in her life.

Narcissa, though she would never admit lest she be subject to the scorn of her peers, was one of the few people that knew Talia was very little of what she purported to be, hiding secrets and shame as though they were nothing more than pesky flecks of dust coating the delicate perfection that was her life. The only reason she was privy to such scandalous knowledge, however, was because Talia did not pretend around her, the persona of the perfect woman that she had cultivated slipping off her as easily as if it were made of water.

Talia slipped her arm through Narcissa's, an act that Narcissa knew was purely for show. She was proved correct when they made it to the gardens and a quick peruse of the surroundings showed that they were both alone. Talia stepped away from Narcissa as though she were made of fire, turning her gaze to the garden with a distasteful sneer.

"I wonder if you've heard the latest?" She asked, her voice losing its usual charm and betraying the boredom the woman felt at anything that didn't remotely revolve around her.

"Enlighten me."

"Mary Runeth talking of hosting a Christmas Party of her own."

"Oh really?"

"Hmm, how a hog like her could conceive of such an idea is beyond me."

"I thought you didn't care for these pitiful social gatherings," Narcissa answered frostily. Talia grinned widely, raking her gaze over Narcissa as if she were a curious specimen that she had stumbled across.

"Oh, I don't but they are just the grandest places to meet new people. Rich people. I cannot imagine that any such individuals would attend anything that Mary Runeth put on."

It was true that Mary Runeth came from a much lesser family, full of half-breeds and witches and wizards that had attempted to make their fortune through desperate means such as trading with muggles. Mary had somehow managed to marry well though, securing herself a fortune and a place at the best parties. Her husband's father would have turned over in his grave and cursed Mary if he had known how far his son had sunk. Frederick and Mary Runeth were now invited to the best of the social gatherings out of respect and honour for the Runeth name, that they all agreed had been dirtied by the individuals they chose to associate with.

"Not unless they have an unhealth obsession with muggles and the Willet Pipe."

"Willet Pipe, now there's something I haven't heard in many years, Mary, Mary, Mary, you are full of surprises." Something about the way Talia spoke sent a chill through Narcissa, the woman's eyes glinting with unchecked malice.

"Not Mary, Frederick."

"Now that is a surprise. No doubt puffing over poor life choices."

The Willet Pipe had been popular among diviners who wished to unlock hidden parts of their magic by puffing away at a herb called Mephusa. For years practitioners had sworn by its power to improve visions and make spells more potent, however, research into such claims found them to be entirely fabricated. Though it did indeed react with magic, it in no way improved or enhanced anything, in fact, it was argued that it did the opposite, making spellcasting far more erratic and unpredictable. There were some however that argued for Mephusa's case, stating that no amount of research could ever truly comprehend the wonders of the herb. Frederick Runeth was among such witches and wizards, dabbling quite heavily in the herb, starting off most gatherings as a rather twitchy and jumpy large man and finishing them up as a stark raving dribbling idiot.

"He still argues its purposes for divination." Narcissa shrugged, though she'd had several conversations mulling over Fredericks addiction to the willet pipe, she did not feel comfortable confiding as such with Talia, the woman seeming to be calculating as she absorbed the new information.

"I wonder if he foresaw what he was to become when he married that…" she gestured dismissively inside.

Narcissa knew that Talia had been circling Frederick as a potential replacement husband when Mary had come along, rosy cheeked and comely. Issues with her late husbands Will had sent her out of the country for many weeks, tracking down long-lost relatives that suspiciously never made the trip back to England, by the time she'd returned Mary and Frederick had married and were expecting their first child.

"I shouldn't have thought so, with how far back that little habit started I'd imagine he'd have done something about it had he known." Talia nodded once, picking a petal from a blooming rose in front of her and letting it drop to the floor. Narcissa smiled broadly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from telling the woman exactly what she thought of her.

"Interesting…I have been hearing other things."

"Oh yes?" Narcissa cleared her throat, watching another petal follow its companion to the floor. It wasn't much of a problem, she could quickly cast a spell and the bloom would be back to its former glory, it was simply the blatant disregard Talia had for something that she had taken time over, pride in. From the way she smirked at her actions, Narcissa knew that Talia was aware of the effect her actions were having and she was loving it.

"Just mutterings really but they have made me wonder…"

"What about?"

"About the Dark Lord." There was a darkness in Talia's voice when she said his name. She had never been very good at following anyone's orders and when The Dark Lord had risen up, she had ignored him just as she ignored everyone who she felt was beneath her. She had not held back in her judgements, calling them all hypocrites for following someone that was so filthy himself. Her main argument was that he had come to the wizarding world late, any magic that he performed would be a watered-down bastardised version of what it should be. Narcissa had argued with her over and over about such things to no avail and when the smoke had settled on The Dark Lords brief and ultimately fruitless reign, Talia had been there, a small secret smile always in the corner of her mouth whispering 'I told you so' over and over.

"Gosh, that subject has been done to death don't you think. All the whisperings in the world can't change what happened."

"Hmm, yes you're right, but this is new."

Narcissa felt the cold creeping around her heart again, the warmth of her decorations and the mutter of her family and friends could do nothing to stop it. They all felt far away from her, a distance that kept growing and stretching and like everything else in her life, she felt powerless to stop it. Narcissa swallowed.

"I'm not sure how anyone could have anything new to say on the matter, it was put to bed years ago."

"Oh Cissy, don't lie to me, you are so exceedingly bad at it." Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the woman as she picked another petal and let it fall. The small pile growing at her feet adding to the insult of using her silly nickname. It was demeaning and patronising when it left Talia's lips and made her back straighten with indignation.

"Very well, what is it you have heard?"

For once Talia seemed startled; her eyes widening as she drew back slightly. Quickly though she schooled her features, drawling out her question lazily.

"He is back is he not?"

"What difference does it make to you?"

"Answer the question, Cissy." Narcissa sighed heavily, linking her fingers in front of her.

"And if he is?"

"How did this happen?" Talia hissed, crushing the blossom in her hand.

"How is not important, where did you hear this?"

"Well let's just say even the most complicated of knots can be undone if you have the right tools," Narcissa commented, turning to look into the ballroom.

"Do I want to know who?"

"Oh, it's obvious really. So lonely, so willing to please."

"Marcus." Narcissa shook her head sadly, Theodore's father was a weak man, weak for so many things.

"Hmm yes, so it would seem."

"And the new wizard? What of him?"

"Well obviously that is all going ahead, he's a very rich man and a woman of my tastes, well I have certain standards."

"You're playing a dangerous game."

"All the best games are, but that is not why I am so interested. The boy…the supposedly famous one…"

"Harry Potter."

"Yes him, he attends my sons' school does he not?" Narcissa nodded, unsure as to where Talia was going with her trail of thought. It was true that Talia was fiercely protective of her son, showing some modicum of care for the boy, which wasn't much of a statement considering the woman didn't care much for anyone else.

"I will not have my son's life in jeopardy because of some spiteful, hypocritical wizard holding a grudge."

"Tis more than that, I assure you."

"Whatever it is it needs to be undone. What about Draco, he will be in the middle of all this. Holding meetings here under this roof while your son is just a few rooms away."

"How dare you question my care for my son." Narcissa spat, "everything I have done, everything I have sacrificed has been to keep him safe from harm. You cannot possibly know what it is like, picking and choosing your men while I stand by mine and watch as he makes the same mistakes over and over."

"If it were me, he would make that mistake but once," Talia said darkly and Narcissa laughed bitterly.

"I do not have that option, unlike you I love my husband, in my own way."

"Love is such a fleeting thing, but your son is real."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know yet, there is so much to consider. I care little for the petty arguments of lesser witches and wizards, but my son…he would never forgive me if I took him away from here."

"I would not do anything rash."

"No, you do not believe in doing much ever, do you?" Talia adjusted her dress, moving back towards the ballroom, "if I were you, my dear, I would take matters into my own hands. Men are such…fools." Narcissa watched her leave, her perfume lingering in the air making her feel a little sick.

* * *

"I feel like this is possibly one of your worst ideas," Draco commented, watching as Theo took off his suit jacket and hung it over the balcony, undoing the top buttons of his shirt with determination.

"I'm inclined to agree with Drake here, what exactly are you hoping to achieve?"

"Honour for the lady in my life and proof of my loyalty to my friend."

"Ah well, now you've explained it makes perfect sense." Blaise took a sip of his drink.

"Really?"

"No, you're an idiot." He replied calmly, rolling his eyes when Theo opened his arm wide and looked at Draco.

"Now come on mate, hit me."

"Much as that's tempting, I feel like I've got better things to do."

"Come on I kissed your girlfriend and…you know?"

"No, we don't, and we don't want to know." Blaise clarified, and Draco nodded in agreement.

"I broke the wizarding code of mately conduct and I must atone."

"I told you he shouldn't have had that extra drink." Blaise shook his head.

"I don't think that's a thing, Nott."

"It absolutely is a thing."

"Malfoy is right, its really not and you need to stop being such a…"

"What in Merlin's name are you guys doing?"

All three turned to look at Pansy as she and Daphne stepped out onto the balcony; both wearing floor length ballgowns and holding matching flutes of champagne. It was a given that all the children of the most well-to-do wizards would look there best, even if, like Pansy, they felt like an idiot whilst doing it.

"You can ask Nott that one?" Draco shrugged, resting against the balcony next to Blaise, who had turned his back on the little congregation and was glaring out at the forest surrounding Malfoy Manor.

"What are you up to now, Nott," Pansy asked, her hands, one hand on her hip, eyebrow raised in a disapproving glare.

"Nice dress Pans, makes you look like a girl." Theo quipped, laughing when Pansy's face began to turn red, the champagne in the flute beginning to shake as she tried to control her anger.

"Stop changing the subject, babe. What's going on here?"

Blaise mouthed the word Babe to Draco, his mouth wrinkling in disgust. He was pretty sure that pet name hadn't reared its ugly head when they had briefly been together, then again, the amount of attention he gave it, anything could have slipped him by.

"Just trying to do by right by my friends." He mumbled sheepishly, shooting Draco a guilty look as Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"I've told you, I'm fine. You really need to stop embarrassing yourself and I'm honestly not sure your face could have taken the damage my fist would have done to it."

There was a moment of silence broken rather suddenly by the combined laughter of his friends.

"I fail to see what is so amusing," Draco said drily, a small smile curling on his lips.

"You forget…your nose got rearranged by Potty and the Weasel Twins." Blaise wheezed between laughter, gripping onto the stone dragon adorning the balcony to keep himself on his feet. Draco went to point out that it was one Weasel twin but bit his tongue, not wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"Oh and the Mudblood." Theo pointed out. Draco's smile dropped instantly, anger bubbling in his gut. He knew that it was mightily hypocritical of him to get so wound up about a name that he had used frequently. But now he knew what how the name made her feel, what exactly it meant to her, and now he cared.

"What?" Daphne exclaimed, looking between her boyfriend and the blonde.

"Oh, hadn't you heard, Draco got hit by the mudblood-know-it-all. Girls got a mean left hook." Draco clenched his jaw forcing himself to remain calm as he placed his tumbler on the balcony.

"You know what, I change my mind, I think I will hit you."

"What?" Theo shrieked, his eyes widening a little.

"Backing out already?" Draco mocked, quickly removing his jacket, flinging it at Blaise who only just about caught it before the extremely expensive material ended up on the floor.

"Err, mate…I don't think that's a good idea." He mumbled after him, trying to grip the blonde's arm.

"Come one, hitting Nott is always a good idea."

"I object, wholeheartedly." Theo quipped from behind Daphne, who had turned to glare at Draco, looking so ferocious that he almost took a step back.

"What is this about, Malfoy?"

"You heard the idiot, mately wizarding code…"

"Wizarding code of mately conduct." Theo clarified.

"You hear him?" Draco gestured towards him in exasperation.

"Well if you're going to say something at least say it right."

"Nott, will you shut up?" Pansy shrieked, clopping forward moodily in her heals. "Seriously Draco, what is this about?"

"Simple, Nott is right, I'm owed my vengeance." He shrugged, already the anger was dissipating, and he realised what a thoroughly bad idea his whole show had been. He didn't hit people, that wasn't his thing. He supposed he could blame the Firewhiskey for his rash decisions, he had cracked the bottle open significantly earlier than normal, owed to the arrival of his Great Aunt Alliatrice who insisted on following him round and telling him all about her stuffed magical creature collection. He honestly never wished a day to go sooner, the only thing keeping him remotely sane was the thought of seeing Granger at the end of it. Seeing Granger and absolutely continuing from where they'd left off.

"Vengeance for what exactly?"

"Am I missing something, or is the answer to that so blatantly obvious it's almost embarrassing?" Blaise queried, glancing between Draco and Pansy. He didn't want it to but jealously burned in his gut, because they were so close. Something secret passing between them. He'd seen it in the corridor at Hogwarts - yet another time when Pansy had inserted herself into Draco's affairs – and there it was again, so obvious it made him feel a little sick.

"Blaise has a point Pans, what in Merlin's name are you jabbering about?" Pansy scowled when Draco raised his eyebrows to her, she could see the glimmer of victory in his eyes when she shrugged, stepping back and conceding.

"Too much champagne, but the point still stands, hitting Theo is a bad idea."

"Thankyou Pans and may I say you look particularly ravishing in purple."

"On second thoughts, have at him." Pansy drooled, and Theo gulped, relaxing a little when Draco was already taking his place next to Blaise, fishing the jacket from his friends' hands.

"You guys are crazy, you know that?" Daphne turned to each of them, her eyes wide and accusing.

"You have dated and are dating two of us, the two wrong one's I might add, which means you've got very little room to point your wand."

"Zabini, are you flirting with my girlfriend?"

"I shouldn't have thought you'd have minded all that much, Nott." Pansy cut in, grinning maliciously as Theo turned red, wrapping his arms around Daphne and burying his burning face in her shoulder, muttering something unintelligible back.

"Sorry, Nott didn't quite catch that, I am not fluent in hypocrite."

"But she can throw her voice mighty far from that high road she's always taking." Pansy sneered at him half-heartedly, desperately trying not to show that what he had said hurt her a little.

"What are you guys doing out here anyway, its freezing." Daphne murmured to Theo, blatantly ignoring the others.

"It got stuffy inside, all those people, all that…urgh." Blaise groaned.

"Did you know that my husband can enlarge his cock with a simple spell, he gets all hard and whacks me round the face with it. Done wonders for our sex life." Theo crowed in a high-pitched squawk, pressing his hand against his chest. Daphne hit his arm but threw her head back and laughed.

"It's not that bad." Pansy frowned, taking a gulp of champagne.

"Oh, come on, everything is just one big game of wand measuring." Blaise groaned.

"Good job you don't get involved then Zabini." Blaise frowned at Draco, who shot him a cheeky grin.

"Your dad is the worst for it." Blaise countered, and Draco opened his arms, shrugging dramatically.

"He's always been the same. You got anything, done anything, own anything, he's got it, done and owned it ten times better than you."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

"I am nothing like my father." Draco bit out, rounding on Blaise, who quickly stepped away.

"Jokes mate, jokes."

"Very funny." Draco countered sarcastically.

"Has anyone seen Crabbe or Goyle this Christmas?" Pansy asked and the Slytherins all looked between them, shrugging when no one said anything.

"I'm sure they were invited," Draco commented. He felt a little bad, the two great oafs hadn't even crossed his mind, not when there were much better much more beautiful things to think of.

"Probably not enough food here." Blaise shrugged.

"That's cruel." Daphne pointed out, chuckling a little.

"Cruel but true."

"Don't you think those guys have been a little distant recently?" Pansy queried, her little finger tapping the stem of the champagne flute, the crystal ringing slightly with each hit.

"Oh don't start on someone else, Crabbe and Goyle are fine, leave well alone Pans," Draco muttered, shaking his head.

"Okay, speaking of other things, so Pansy can calm down, aren't we usually a good way down a bottle of Luden's Promise by now?" Theo dropped in, wiggling about his empty tumbler and grinning at Draco.

"Usually, but Mrs Malfoy has normally put on her grand display by now and we've snuck away."

Daphne was right, in all the years that his mother had thrown her parties there was always a display that had gradually got more and more elaborate, to the point that they all could have strutted past the party-goers naked and no one would have batted an eyelid. By the time the grand displays finished then everyone would be suitably pickled and not notice that their young sprogs, who'd they'd spent the entire morning boasting about, were, in fact, three sheets to the wind and were struggling to stand.

"There's got to be something…"

A cheer rose up as Theo said this and they all glanced towards the Manor. Obviously whatever festive display Narcissa had planned had begun, much to the delight of all gathered. As if on cue, Lucy and Terry Runeth stepped out onto the balcony, matching scowls on their faces. It was customary for the twins to spend Christmas with their Aunt and Uncle while their parents continued their work rehabilitating Giants who were quickly being overrun by the expanding population of muggles. In spite of their rather annoying habit of constantly explaining how their school was far superior to Hogwarts, they weren't all that bad to spend time with.

"Narcissa finally doing a strip tease."

"Nott, I'm warning you," Draco muttered coldly.

"Come on mate it's only a matter of time. One of these years…"

"I am going to Avada your ass."

"I wish. Gnomes, fucking gnomes." Terry shook his head, wrinkling his heavily freckled nose.

"What?" Pansy trotted across the balcony in her large heels to peer through the glass door.

"Travelling troop apparently, act out famous muggle stories about Christmas."

"How quaint." Daphne sniffed.

"That's what Mrs Malfoy said when she introduced them," Lucy commented, flicking her long black hair over her shoulder and smiling shyly at Blaise who nodded at her uncomfortably.

The twins didn't actually look anything alike, in fact, many drunken conversations had strayed into the territory of whether or not the two were actually even related. Lucy had delicate pretty features, whereas Terry's features seemed to be squashed across his face. Lucy was petite, standing only a little over five foot, whereas a Terry was large, his limbs thick and gangly. One of the possible explanations that had been batted about, after Terry had fallen into his obligatory catatonic state, was that Lucy's mother had got a little too friendly with one of the giants and Terry had been the outcome. Lucy neither confirmed nor denied these accusations but the look on her face when anyone ever called them twins was more than telling.

"Where does your mother get these ideas, they are utterly fabulous." Theo gushed, a grin spreading across his face.

"Beats me. Honestly though, gnomes. I dread to think what it will be next year."

"There's always a strip…"

"Nott!"

"Probably ask your Uncle to do a presentation on the joys of the Willet," Pansy called over her shoulder, grinning at Terry before pressing her nose back against the glass. "Oh Merlin, the costumes are atrocious, you've got to see this." Blaise shrugged and sidled his way over, casually slipping his arm around her waist as he looked over her shoulder.

Pansy jumped slightly, flushing as she felt the warmth of his arm sinking through her dress. She still had no idea how she felt about it all, wanting to sink into his embrace at the same time as wanting to shrink away and keep their friendship just as it always had been because she knew that was safe.

"Ah and what joys, what utter joys. Speaking of such joys?" Theo turned to Terry who tapped his pocket and winked. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, that is all the invitation I need, shall we adjourn to the study."

"Sure, but you guys are breathing that crap out the window."

* * *

Draco had never really enjoyed the Willet Pipe, finding its effects on his magic far too unpredictable for his liking, as such most years had been spent with Blaise getting wonderfully pissed on Luden's promise while the others babbled a bunch of crap at them about other worlds and the wonders of their magic. It wasn't too bad, and Draco had always been of the mind that if his friends were going to get high in his house while their relatives were only a few rooms a way, it always paid to have a couple of people on watch.

"Do you think that the odourless thing was always a feature or did other individuals such as ourselves add that little number?" Theo asked, examining the pipe as he hung his head out the window to take another long puff.

"What in Merlin's name are you babbling on about." Pansy giggled, watching her magic spark on her fingertips. She casually touched Terry's face, clapping her hands in delight when he jumped away, groaning in his sleep and turning over to carry on snoring.

"Every year," Draco commented to Blaise, nodding at the dribbling form of Terry. Though the drug seemed not to agree with him, he still insisted on partaking of it every year. One puff and he was out for the count, missing the entire evening. Terry did report however having the best sleep of his life which Draco supposed was worth something.

"Merlin. What a guy, what a wizard." Lucy sighed, grasping Blaise's arm and looking up at him dreamily, "don't you think that Merlin was amazing?" Blaise cringed slightly, trying to tug his arm free.

"He's alright I guess."

"Alright? Alright?"

"He's got nothing on Salazar." Pansy sniffed matter-of-factly, scowling at Lucy arm who was blinking owlishly at her, her eyes all glassy. Pansy had never been too fond of Lucy Runeth, the dark-haired girl always muscling close to Blaise, always near him.

"You cannot mean that Salazar was just a Hogwarts thing, Merlin is a magic thing."

"So is Salazar." Pansy defended.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't think even you know what you mean Runeth." At Draco's words, Lucy fell into a fit of giggles, landing on the floor with a thump.

The full effects of the Willet Pipe were never actually fully documented, the herb apparently interacting with magic in such a strange way that anything could happen, but mostly Draco found that his friends acted like utter idiots. He cast a glance at Blaise who rolled his eyes, lifting his empty glass so that Draco could once again fill it with Luden's promise. The pair of them would get happily sozzled and rip into their friends once they'd sobered up like they did every year.

"There's something wrong with my dad," Theo muttered, falling into one of the armchairs, a deep sigh leaving him.

"What do you mean?" Daphne crawled up in Theo's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burrowing her face into his neck, apparently oblivious to company.

"I don't know he seems, its like he's up too something, sneaking around, drinking more than usual."

"Well, not much change there then." Blaise shrugged, and Theo laughed humourlessly, the smile on his face dropping quickly.

"I wish it were the same as usual but…it's something else, he seems…blah, I don't know, it's hardly worth mentioning really, I don't know why I did."

Draco stared across the room at his friend, thinking back to the memories that Snape had shown him and shivering violently. Both his dad and Theo's had been there, they had watched while that poor wizard had killed his family and they had done nothing. He wondered whether, now that it had all started again, the memories had come back, shaking off the past and dancing through their minds as if they had only happened seconds ago.

"Voices, I hear voices." Lucy muttered, from her place on the floor, her brow furrowing, "they come closer, deep and muttering."

"There is something wrong with you, Rune…" Draco began, cut off by Blaise who had his ear to the door.

"Shit, shit, shit, people coming down the hall." He waved his arm and Pansy instantly doused the pipe, shutting up the window and jumping into a seat doing her best to act casual.

"Someone do something with Terry." Draco hissed, watching with amusement as Pansy tried to drag him off the floor and onto the seat next to her. The sight was amusing, and Draco found himself biting back laughter as the young witch ended up in a sprawling heap over the comatose wizard.

"Bloodie hell, Pans…" Blaise shook his head, moving silently across the room to help her up, putting his hand over her mouth when she burst into hysterics.

"Who is it?" Theo whispered, gently shoving Daphne off his lap to move and stand next to Draco, placing his ear against the door. The voices were muffled, two men arguing in hushed tones.

"You speak as though you know the will of the Dark Lord, but you gave up the path just like me." Theo jumped away from the door as he recognised his father's voice, looking at Draco with wide eyes. Draco shrugged, unsure of what to do or say, but he had an idea of who Theo's father was talking to before the man even spoke and when he did, Draco closed his eyes against the reality of it.

"The Dark Lord has appointed me…" Lucius spat.

"You have appointed yourself. You go after the boy and his friends because you think that's what the Dark Lord wants." Draco felt sick, his stomach tying itself in knots at the realisation that his father was planning something that would ultimately put Hermione in danger.

"It is what he wants. You were there, you saw." The silence that followed was cold and Draco shivered in its chill. He had no idea what they were on about, but he had his suspicions, gnawing, painful suspicions that he didn't want to acknowledge, but they were there non the less.

"I wish I hadn't, the boy…" Marcus' voice broke and Theo tensed at Draco's side.

"Do not speak of that here."

"Then where?"

"Nowhere, what's done is done and we must follow. You remember what happens to those that don't." Draco gulped at his father's words, hearing the fear and knowing exactly it was there.

"Are you even sure that your plan will work?" Marcus scoffed. Draco knew that such a question would put his father's back right up. If there was anything that he hated it was being questioned by those he deemed lesser than himself and he had seen Marcus Nott as lesser than himself for some time.

"You worry about your part in it and leave the rest to me." Their footsteps faded away and Draco sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

"What is it?" Daphne whispered, glancing away from Blaise and Pansy who had begun whispering furiously, their heads almost touching as they muttered angrily at one another.

"Nothing just my father and someone else," Draco mumbled, receiving a gratified look from Theo as he took a deep breath and plastered his usual grin across his face, stomping back towards Daphne as if he hadn't just heard evidence of his father being in league with the Dark Lord.

"Boring stuff really, what's wrong with these two?" Theo asked, sitting back down and yanking Daphne onto his lap, eyeing up Blaise and Pansy as though they were some strange specimen.

"Stay out of this Nott," Blaise growled, rounding back on Pansy, whose bottom lip was wobbling. She quickly turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, pushing past Draco as though he wasn't there. To his shock, he noticed that Pansy was crying, something that the young witch didn't really do, ever.

"What in Merlin's name happened?" Draco asked, wondering if maybe he should have been listening in on their conversation rather than the one between his father and Marcus.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Blaise shouted, storming after her after and slamming the door behind him.

"By Salazar what crawled up his arse?" Draco mumbled, staring at the dark wooden door as if it would begin to talk and explain all the mysteries going on around him. Not surprisingly it remained silent.

* * *

"Pans, where in Merlin's name are you going?" Blaise shouted after her, running to catch up with the Brunette, who lowered her head at his word and tried to increase her speed, gritting her teeth when the heels she wore hindered her progress. She sighed in exasperation when she felt his hand around the top of her arm drawing her to a stop.

"Away from you…you…" She groaned, covering her eyes with both her hands, refusing to look at him. He had started all of this, asking her why she was avoiding him, avoiding the kiss right where everyone could listen in and hear. He was the one that had called her a coward for running away from feelings all the time. He was the one that had told her that while she clung onto their friendship, they could never have one, not anymore.

"Why would you say that to me?" She sniffed, finally lowering her hands, watching as his jaw clenched and he looked away from her, stepping back as though her very presence was painful.

"Because it's true Pans, I don't want to be your friend." Pansy felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her.

"You don't get to decide that, it's not fair."

"You know what's not fair, is feeling this way every day and not being able to do anything about it. I'm sick of pretending Pans."

"You might have been pretending but I wasn't, you're my friend, my best friend. You always have been and this…this wasn't what I was expecting, or what I wanted." Blaise flinched, drawing back even more. Pansy felt bad when she watched his dark eyes fill with pain.

"That's your decision?" Blaise asked coldly, and Pansy gulped. She knew this was the right choice, would be good for both of them, but something inside wanted to throw caution to the wind and tell him that she was being an idiot. Instead, she gulped, pushing down all her doubts and meeting his gaze levelly.

"It has to be, we are friends Blaise. I need you to be my friend."

"Very well." With a nod, he walked away, and Pansy felt as though her heart were being torn out with every step. This had to be the right decision, it was safe, it was what she knew and there was less chance of either of them getting hurt. But if she were honest with herself it already hurt, far too much.

* * *

Hermione nibbled her bottom lip as she glanced around her home, the lounge newly lit up with Christmas lights and the fire crackling in the hearth. She had managed to sneak away a little earlier to prepare for Malfoy's arrival, rather embarrassingly throwing herself into making things as cosy and Christmassy as possible. She'd dug out some hot chocolate which was all spooned into cups ready for some warm milk, had piled the sofa with all the blankets she could find, hung tinsel and baubles from various surfaces and then stood back to admire her work, flushing when she thought of Draco arriving and what that would mean.

She had thought of him all day, barely able to enjoy the festivities as her mind wandered back to him over and over again, her heart racing in her chest as she relieved how he made her feel. Quickly shaking her head, she moved back to the kitchen to check once again that everything was in order and remind herself what Ginny had told her. The redhead had both squealed with excitement and cautioned her against moving further with Malfoy unless they had spoken seriously about what it all meant. The conversation was by all intents and purposes confusing, with Ginny throwing all sorts of mixed signals about how she truly felt about the turn of events.

Hermione understood her friend's reticence, she had her own uncertainties. It wasn't as though Draco had been consistent in all the time, they had been experiencing the memories. Then there was the issue of their friends; Harry and Ron would in no way be happy to learn that she had feelings for their longtime enemy and she knew without a doubt that Draco's friends would have more than a few things to say about their relationship. The more she thought about it the more it seemed impossible and Ginny's warnings made sense. How could they possibly make anything between them work when there was already so much working against them, even without the whole problem with his father seemingly in league with the Dark Lord once again.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, and her heart hammered in her chest. It was him, she was certain of it and all at once she became incredibly nervous. She had no idea how to act around him anymore, how to behave. Doubts and fears circled her mind, of him having decided against it, having slept on their whole short tryst and realised he still found her disgusting and could go no further. All thoughts, however, left her mind when she opened the door and he stood in front of her, clearing his throat nervously and holding a bottle of Firewhiskey over the threshold as if they were no more than mere acquaintances. Realising that he was just as nervous as she was made her feel strangely confident. With a grin she took the bottle from his hands and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"Merry Christmas, Malfoy," she whispered, smiling when he buried his nose in her neck, breathing her in, his shoulders relaxing with every exhale.

"Merry Christmas, Granger" With those words she felt as though all her worries would remain just that, finding no basis in reality, because she was certain that nothing so wonderful as being in his arms could ever be wrong.


	76. Better Than Hot Chocolate

Right all the apologies for not updating sooner, I know I say this every time, whoops. I know this is short but more will be following I promise its just I have got lots on so getting some free time is proving a little difficult. I am also going back through all the previous chapters and editing significantly because I thought that some of them were just a little sloppy. Gosh all that babbling over, hope you enjoy this, even though there isn't much to it, thanks so much for all the comments etc, they mean a lot and I'm so chuffed that there are people enjoying my story. :)

* * *

Hermione had never felt so aware of anyone in her whole life, even with the expanse of the kitchen and Draco lingering in the doorway at the far end, she felt as though they had the breathing space of a broom closet.

"So…How was your day?" She cleared her throat uncomfortably, rifling through the cupboards for the hot chocolate, glad of something to keep her distracted from how awkward it all seemed. Hermione snuck her glance under her arm, watching him fiddle with the cuffs of his shirt, wondering if there was ever an occasion that called for the Malfoy to dress down.

"Nauseating dinner guest, friends getting far drunker than they should and causing a scene, you know the usual."

"Right…" Hermione said slowly, turning the kettle on and swinging herself round to face him, "that's a normal Christmas?"

"Well usually I'd be getting drunk too, get nice and sozzled so I can check out early. Dribble the yuletide onto my pillow, that sort of thing."

"That's incredibly sad."

"Yeah well, I had a better offer this year." There was a softness in his gaze as he said this that made Hermione's cheeks glow. "So, what about you, Granger? What does the most know-it-all-witch, do with her Christmas?"

"It was nice, the Weasleys always make me feel welcome and they do the best Christmas'" It was the truth but this Christmas had felt strange somehow; behind the jokes and the laughter, even as Sirius belted out carols and hung tinsel off sleeping guests there had been a nameless shadow so subtle and insidious that even her awareness of its presence did little to dispel it.

"Do they now?"

"Mmmhmm."

"And the best jumpers?" Hermione paused glancing down at the jumper she wore. Mrs Weasley's obligatory gift that she showered on every one of her children and obviously their friends. She knitted them at a furious rate and one size just had to fit all, even if it didn't. In her desperate attempt to leave a little earlier she had completely neglected to change into something a little less orange and unflattering.

"How did you…?"

"An inkling," Draco smirked, eyeing her up casually, "it suits you."

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding as the kettle boiled behind her. She grasped two mugs with shaking hands, wincing as they clattered onto the counter. She mumbled a few choice words to herself, spooning the hot chocolate into the mugs quickly, nearly jumping out of her skin when Draco stood next to her, his arm pressing against hers.

"What's that?"

"Erm, this? It's hot chocolate, it's instant."

"As opposed to the hot chocolate that isn't?"

"Muggles don't have magic, remember. They have to think up new and imaginative ways to get things done simply."

"Is that right?"

"That is exactly right." Hermione wished she could understand the stifling atmosphere around them. Only the other night things had seemed so easy and now everything seemed so difficult.

"How's Mr Weasley?" He seemed uncomfortable as he sounded out the words, leaning back against the counter and scratching the back of his neck.

"He's – He's much better, thank you, on the mend." Hermione rolled her eyes at her own formalities, wondering why she sounded as though she had been dropped right into one of Mina's memories.

"On the mend," Draco repeated the words, a smirk of amusement curling his lips and Hermione's breath caught. The tension from the night before was back and in full force, she could see it all so clearly in her mind; he hadn't been able to keep his hands off her, dragging her as close as feasibly possible and she'd clung onto him with trembling fingers. She dazedly made her way over to the fridge, opening it wide and making a grand show of looking for the whipped cream, all the while cooling off her cheeks.

"Now I can't promise that this is going to be as good as your mothers." She wasn't sure how much she was fooling the blonde, but her words sounded strained to her own ears. She shook the can heavily squirting the whipped cream onto the two drinks, adding the finishing touches of tiny marshmallows before stepping back and gesturing to them with a flourish.

"They look good, Granger." But he wasn't looking at the drinks, he was staring at her, his gaze so serious that she found herself gulping a little.

"Well, we better drink up." She grasped hers quickly, taking a big sip and instantly regretting it, the liquid scalding her tongue, "Ow hot, don't-don't drink it just yet. Sorry, should have, should have let it cool first." She groaned, placing her mug back on the side next to his. "We need to talk."

"Hmm, I agree."

"You do? I mean yes…it's just that everything is so awkward, and I think that if we…What? What's so funny?" Draco's shoulders were shaking with laughter. "Malfoy this is serious." He sobered a little and Hermione watched in confusion as he closed the distance between them.

"What are you…?"

"It's incredibly serious that you, the brightest witch at Hogwarts," he reached forward wiping something off the end of her nose, "are not aware of the huge glob of cream on the end of your nose." He sucked the end of his finger and Hermione found her mouth watering a little, she wondered how it could look so good, how she could want so badly to taste the remnants of it on his lips.

"Tastes good." Draco nodded in appreciation, staring at the end of his finger before turning back to her, the smile dropping from his face almost instantly. The bob of his Adam's apple was hypnotising, and Hermione blinked at it before looking back into his eyes.

"You were saying?" Her eyes nearly drifted closed, because there was that gruffness to his voice again, the same as she'd heard the night before. She wanted to hear it again, wanted that self-assured Draco that had kissed her, drawn patterns on her skin and smirked at her reactions.

"I…I…" She was vaguely aware that her mouth was simply opening and closing, communicating nothing but garbled sounds and her own stupidity. She all but sighed with relief when he leant forward and kissed her, so gentle and shy, his hands clenched at his sides and a wealth of space between them. Hermione whimpered when he pulled away, grey eyes searching her face. His hands were on her hips, long fingers grasping at the awful knitwear and dragging her close.

"You wanted to talk.?" Her toes threatened to curl out how wonderfully shaken he sounded after just one delicate kiss. She shook her head and he was kissing her again, with an urgency that made her legs shake beneath her. How could it have ever been awkward, there was no reasonable explanation because everything about him seemed to just fit.

She shivered when he nibbled her neck, his smile suitably vampiric as he looked at her then lowered his head to do it again. His fingertips were pressing almost painfully into her hips, bulky Christmas jumper the only thing keeping them from searing her skin with their warmth. But she wanted them to, she somehow wanted them to brand every part of her. She tugged at his hair, confidence soaring when he groaned, moving to kiss her.

With shaking hands Hermione undid his tie, feeling the blonde freeze a little when she slipped it off, letting the fabric fall between her fingers. There was no sound as it hit the floor, but the impact was such a loud accompaniment to their hastened breaths. He looked at it and then at her, gulping heavily.

"Granger?" His voice was choked and uncertain and it sounded so good. Who had she become? Hermione Granger had never been so bold, never so forward or needy. She watched her fingers undo his top button, then the next and then the next, opening his shirt out and running her fingers over the soft paleness of his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath and she thought of the rose garden. She had been bold then, touching him so brazenly, feeling a little smug when his stomach had jumped beneath her fingers. Had he wanted her then too?

More buttons followed till she was tracing her fingers along the whole of his torso, listening to every sound and watching every reaction with fascination, tracing the line of hair from his belly button to his trousers and back again. He moaned and suddenly Hermione was pressed back against the counter, his mouth hungry over hers and she gasped at how much he wanted her. It was thrilling and petrifying all at once and she had no idea how to deal with the onslaught of emotions.

Draco's hands, just as shaky as hers had been, were under her jumper, fingers tracing the underside of her bra. There was no calm certainty to them, not as there had been with Mina and Edward, their memory full of warmth and rightness. Hermione felt as though she was being battered with all emotions at once; the desperate passion and need for something, for anything, for more; more of his want for her, more of his shaking hands exploring her body. He cupped her breast, and Hermione gasped, arching into his touch at the same time as pushing him away.

He stumbled back, hands up as though facing a wand-wielding witch, breath punching the air.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Hermione blinked dazedly at him for a few seconds. Draco Malfoy had just apologised to her. She couldn't quite believe that out of all the things that had happened over the course of the last few minutes, him apologising to her was what surprised her the most. He ran his hands through his hair, turning away from her and stalking the length of the kitchen. Hermione couldn't help but stare at him, feeling both pride and shame for the state she'd left him in, jacket still on, shirt hanging open and his tie a crumpled mess on the floor.

"I don't do this…this isn't. I've never done anything like this before…it's…" She knew she couldn't say too much when she'd been the one causally undressing him. Draco paused in his pacing, slowly making his way towards her and wrapping her in a tight hug. She could feel his heart racing beneath her fingertips.

"I didn't expect that to happen." He mumbled into her hair.

"I don't know what I'm doing." Hermione groaned burrowing her head into his chest.

"Me either."

"What?" Draco pulled away a little as she looked up at him violently.

"I said, me either."

"What? How?" Draco grimaced, scratching the back of his neck.

"I don't make a habit of doing this stuff, Granger."

"With me, or with anyone?"

"Merlin, with anyone."

"But you're…you're…"

"I'm what?"

"You just seem to…know." Hermione found his blush incredibly endearing, even more so given the fact that he couldn't meet her gaze.

"I stole a lot of my material from the memories." Hermione found herself giggling at how ridiculous the statement seemed, erupting into louder laughter when he gave her a disapproving stare. "Ha ha ha laugh it up. Look I'm just as…" Hermione sobered.

"Just as what?"

"Come on, Granger might have thought about us being a thing, but I never expected it."

"We're a thing?"

"Good to see you using that brain of yours."

"I'm sorry, but I don't even know what this is. When you first came here it was awkward and now its…" she fingered the button of his shirt, glancing up at his lips that were so much redder than normal, "now it's not."

"Wow, so articulate," He joked, hands running up and down her sides, staying infuriatingly above the sweater.

"I just…" she was on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his curiously. She knew that they should talk, she knew she should make them sit down with their hot chocolates and discuss exactly what it was that was happening between them. But kissing him was so good, so right and so much better than hot chocolate.


End file.
